The Wasteland:New Hope
by FalloutRanger
Summary: The son of the Lone Wanderer meets the daughter of Amata. Will they be the only hope for the changing Wasteland? Ok, I had to reupload this from my old profile, hope yall like.
1. Beginning

**Hey, I'm back. I am going to take some liberties with this story, weapons, names, and people. Hope yall like it.**

_My name is Marc, Marc Brown. I live in the Capital Wasteland, in the city of Megaton. I don't know why I'm writing this; guess someone needs to know my story, how my world was turned upside down by naïve, innocent, vault girl; where to begin…_

The Wasteland held many dangers, raiders, slavers, and deathclaws; yet what seemed to be more dangerous than anything was destiny. A new wind is blowing and it is blowing towards a certain boy living in the rusted metal hulk of Megaton City.

June 27, 2294 Megaton 9:00 AM

The old Vault-Tec issue mattress creaked and groaned loudly as the body of seventeen Marc Brown shifted in his sleep. He had been hunting with his neighbor Billy Creel and his daughter Maggie till late last night and had just gotten to sleep, his eyes shifting back and forth as he dreamed.

Suddenly he shot up from his bed, his shirt plastered to his chest. He had dreamed of dark men in armor, helms glowing with fire. They had come to Megaton and broken through the gates, the bodies of Billy, Maggie, Simms, and Harden lying dead; but what scared him the most was the body of his mother. He wandered across to the atom bomb and there, nailed upon it, was his mother…Moira Brown.

_Her dark hair, usually tied back in a bun, now hung in her face. She was beaten to death, wrists tied to the bombs frame with barbed wire. Marc stumbled forward, tears streaming down his face, falling down into the muddy, irradiated water. Marc could feel the radiation seep into his skin, causing him to become more nauseous than before; doubling over, he retches his stomach contents into the water. _

_Wiping his mouth, he looks into his mother's eyes; now white and vacant. Crawling forward and reaching out, he touches her leg; mutilated and bloody._

"_Ma…Mom?" Marc asked, tears flowing down his grime-covered cheeks, "what happened?"_

'BANG' BANG' came a loud knocking on Marc's door, startling him and making him fall out of his bed. As he tried to untangle himself from his bed, he heard his mother's voice calling to him.

"Marc…MARC!" shouted Moira from outside his door, "It's time to get up!" she finished as she walked downstairs to the shop. Finally extricating himself from his sheets, Marc stood and walked to his bathroom sink. Turning the rusted handles, cold, mildly radiated water came rushing out; splashing water on his face and chest.

Grumbling to himself, he walked to his drawers, drying his face with a clean towel. Pulling it open he selected a plain white T-shirt, only slightly blood speckled from a previous costumer at the Craterside Supply.

Smirking as he remembered the man, drunk as much as Hell was hot, the man had tried to hold up the store. The drunk had pulled a measly Chinese pistol on his mother; the magazine wasn't even fully in when the man pulled the trigger. The result was explosive to say the least, the top of his cranium was gone, splattered along the wall and Marc's shirt; thankfully on a little bit stained it, Marc liked this shirt.

Pulling it over his head as he opened his door, he walked quickly downstairs. His mom was adding a few adjustments to Marc's Glock .40, a hair trigger and an extended magazine; for a rainy day.

Walking into the main shop area, he sat on a barstool bolted down in front of his mother's workstation. Looking up from her work, Moira greeted her son with her normally crazy smile and grease stains on her cheeks.

"How did you sleep Marc?" she said smiling as she slid the trigger into place, her tongue slightly out.

Shrugging his shoulders he replied, "Eh, could have been better; stayed out to long with Maggie and Mr. Creel last night." Picking at a scrap on rust on the tabletop, he glanced up. "So…you think I could go to Springville today?"

Moira looked up from her son's pistol, the same one left by his father thirteen years prior. He had his eyes, a deep blue, and the kind that you only saw in old Pre-War magazines of oceans. Sighing to herself, she expertly pieced the Glock together, ejecting the magazine after remembering Marc's blunder the first time he held it a month ago.

She looked at Marc, "You…are so much like your father; could never get tied down in one place." Laughing as he shrugged his shoulders, "Yup, you have his mannerisms as well."

Smiling as she flipped the pistol grip forward, offering it toward the teenager; his hand reached forward quickly.

Snatching it back, she laughed loudly; echoing through the shop. "Now remember, safety on at all times when you are in the city walls." Placing it in Marc's hand, she reaches under the counter, pulling the gun safe key from its hiding place.

Pointing to her room, saying "Go pick a rifle, you always want to make sure you have one out in the Wastes." Groaning as he went into the adjoining room.

"I know mom…I'm not a kid anymore." Marc said opening the safe, an old weathered box with scorch marks from his mother's experiments.

Swinging the door open, he let out a low whistle. After years of seeing these weapons, he was still at awe in the sheer amount of firepower. There were rifles and pistols galore, enough to arm the residents of Megaton and then some. He scanned the rifles, going through what his mother had taught him.

"_Alrighty, R91 assault rifle, .32 hunting rifle…no too weak, not enough penetration; ah-ha!"_

A huge grin spreading across his face, Marc pulled out his choice weapon. The 5.56 custom-made Infiltrator as he liked to call it; silencer with a scope mounted on top of the receiver; what made it special was that it was his father's before him. The rifle had a matte-black finish, expertly painted to blend in with the shadows.

Reaching into the shelves above the rifles, Marc pulled free another heirloom from his father. A brown duster, scuffed and patched together bullet-holes adorned the exterior, but on the interior, there were holsters for three medium sized revolvers or automatics.

Standing at 5'11 and weighing about 160 lbs. Marc was a force to be reckoned with...well that's what Uncle Gob said all the time. Slipping the weathered duster on, tying the straps down and slipping a serrated combat knife into his boot and a slightly smaller version into the sleeve of his left arm; he stood back to examine himself.

"Wow, Nova is right." He said thinking back to a conversation with Gob's wife, "I do look like Dad.

Standing tall, twisting and pulling at the jacket; testing his flexibility and movement, his sandy brown hair; normally cut short slipped into his eyes. Brushing it out, he tied a red bandanna around his forehead, effectively holding his rowdy hair in place.

Nodding in approval, he snatched up his rifle, slinging it across his back. He then bent over; sliding his father's Glock in a rapid release thigh holster…on safety of course. Standing up he walked back into the shop and stood before his mother.

"Well, I'm heading out. I'll try to head back around nightfall or I might stay at Silver's old place" explained Marc, shifting from foot to foot. He was nervous, it was only the second time he had been allowed to go by himself outside of the walls of Megaton.

Walking from behind the counter, Moira placed her hands on either side of Marc's shoulders. Looking in his eyes she simply said "Be safe…ok?"

Nodding his head, Marc turned and walked out the door; the last thing Moira saw was his duster billowing out in the morning wind and as the door closed she imagined Marc squaring his shoulders; ready for his first adventure.

"_Hmm, he is just like his father"_ thought Moira as she picked up an old lantern and cracked open its casing. _"Let's hope he won't be as lonely."_

**Well, that's my new story. The Wasteland: New Hope; I hope yall like it. Reviews are like presents, I really want them, even criticism; that's like getting socks. Well I'm going to bed night yall.**


	2. State of Emergency

**Well, I'm back, the next installment of New Hope. Hope you enjoy it as much I did bringing it to you. I don't own fallout **

June 27, 2294 Megaton 9:45

The rusted metal plates that made up the walkways and buildings of Megaton creaked as Marc walked down towards Gob's Saloon. Settlers and other residents greeted Marc as he passed them, a kind word and greeting was the most; most knew him because of his father.

Shaking his head as he filed past them, _"Will I only be known for my Father's deeds?" _He wondered, ducking under an overhang with loose electrical wires hanging from it. Stepping closer, he carefully peeled back the loose wires casing, discovering that they had been cut by a blunt knife; the tearing instead of cutting was evidence enough.

Frowning, he examined the wires closer; they had indeed been cut by a blunt knife. _"Hmm, better tell Simms, raiders might be growing a brain." _He laughed at the thought, he remembered Simms and Gob telling him of when a gang of raiders used to attempt to raid Megaton. Simms had said that they never succeeded, only killed a few squatters; but Megaton didn't have enough fighters to take the fight to the raiders.

Tucking the wires back into their conduit box, he turned and walked down the dirt hill, well, it was more like a mud hill. Since his father had brought pure water to the Wasteland; there has been much more rain. Most has been slightly irradiated, but Doc Church had studied it closely and said that with each rain storm, there is less radiation.

The Doc said that in a few months, there would be no traces of radiation remaining; causing new growth to sprout forth much more quickly. Already there was evidence of new life in the once barren Wasteland; Nova had already begun planting a garden with supplies from Dr. Li and selling the vegetables to the traders like Wolfgang, Crow, and Doc Hoff. The traders helped spread seeds and other gardening tools to the other towns, allowing them to grow their own produce.

Arriving at Simms' house, Marc stared at the door, rusted and beaten. Simms had been like a father to him since Marc's dad had disappeared when he was five years old. Fishing in his pocket for the spare key, Marc wondered _"Wonder where he is now, dead in a ditch for all I care…old bastard."_

Finally finding his key, Marc slid it in the keyhole and entered the house. Dropping his bag as he walked into the dining room, he noticed Hardin fiddling with an old hunting rifle his father has had for years. Marc grinned; Hardin was so engrossed in his work that he hadn't even noticed Marc walk in and drop his satchel.

Pulling free his combat knife, he grinned darkly. Crouching slightly, like Simms taught him, he snuck up behind the twenty-two year old boy. Marc was just about to jump Hardin when he felt something cold and hard press against his neck.

"Drop it, kid." echoed a deep voice, gritty and rough from years of living in the Wasteland. Dropping the knife, Marc grinned as he turned around, facing Simms and shrugging his shoulders.

"I could never sneak up on you, could I?" asked Marc as Simms holstered his .44 magnum. Shaking his head, Simms walked over to Hardin; still hunkered down over the rifle.

Slapping the back of Hardin's head, he turned to Marc. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of the visit of Marc Walsh, amateur adventurer and attempted assassin?" said Simms as he pulled a beer and Nuka-Cola from the battered fridge. Tossing the Cola to Marc, Simms popped the bottle cap off and tossed it into a jar full of them.

Turning towards his father, Hardin wiped his hands with an oily rag. Nodding his head towards Marc, he looked at his father.

"Where's mine?" he asked, pointing towards Marc's drink. "I've been working on this rifle all day, I'm thirsty."

Laughing at his son, Simms simply said "Hardin, you almost got your throat slit by a seventeen year old." Looking at Marc, who had a smug grin on his face and was sipping on the flat Pre-War soda. "I don't think you deserve one, seeing as you should be dead. Besides, it's time for your patrol around town." He said, unpinning his badge and tossing it on the table.

Sighing as he snapped off his desk lamp, Hardin stood, picking up the weathered gold star. Walking towards the cabinet next to the door, he reached in and pulled an old, battered, double-barrel shotgun free from its casing.

As he slung the shotgun, he turned towards Marc. "Next time you come by I'll be ready for you, so you'd better be ready for me." He said pinning the badge to his shirt and filling his pockets with spare shells. He nodded towards his father as he walked out of the house; his boots echoing against the rusted metal that made up the walkways.

As the door closed, Simms leaned forward in his chair and taking a sip from his beer. "Marc, I know this isn't a social visit." He said, setting his drink on the table in front of him.

Sighing and draining the last of the cola in one gulp, Marc tossed the now empty bottle in the wastebasket adjacent to his chair. Marc tossed the bottle cap in the air, catching it and examining it closely. His eyes scanned over the dirty cap, its color faded and chipped away after two hundred years.

"Well, it seems we have a problem." He said, putting the bottle cap in his duster pocket. "As I was walking to the main gate, I noticed some wiring was loose from its casing."

Simms leaned forward, his chair creaking slightly. "Marc, what was wrong with the wires?" he said placing his hand on the table. "I need to know what was wrong, what exactly was wrong." He exclaimed.

Stunned by the urgency in his voice, Marc stumbled over his words. "I…I noticed that they were cut by a blunt knife." he stammered, trying to regain his breath. "I think someone, raiders probably, are going to try to take Megaton."

Lucas leaned back, his chair creaking again."Marc, I don't need you tell anyone about this." He said standing up. "I just need you to go about your day as normal, but I need a scout to recon the area outside Megaton." Simms walked towards his bookcase, stating instructions all the way.

He picked up a revolver, placed there earlier. He flicked the loader open, quickly loading it with .357 rounds from his belt. Finishing, he holstered it and pulled his leather jacket from the coat stand next to him.

"I'm going to inform Stockholm of your findings, perhaps we'll find the culprits." He said as he walked from his house; the door swinging shut behind him.

Sighing to himself, Marc picked his satchel up, swinging it on his back. He too opened the door and stepped out from the house. Tightening the straps, Marc started forward towards the gates.

The gate of Megaton echoed across the Wastes, Marc looked over his shoulder. The deputy robot was still standing vigil as always, its programming had and never will change. Looking out into the open land, he started forward, pulling his sunglasses onto his face.

"_Well, maybe I can find something worthwhile out in this land." _

The alarms blared as Lucie Almodovar ran down the corridors, red lights flashing wildly as smoke poured from the vents. She ran faster, sweat pouring down her face, stinging her eyes; Lucie rounded the corner. Her lungs burned as the smoke filled her mouth; she stumbled into the medical bay.

"Mother!" she screamed, falling to the floor as Overseer Almodovar twisted around from the gurney in front of her. The body, a resident of the vault, convulsed one last time. Amata ran to Lucie, pulling her onto her shoulder.

"Lucie!" screamed Amata as they stumbled towards Vault 101's exit. "We need to get to the emergency tunnel, only then will we be safe." She pulled a rebreather onto her face, assisting Lucie with hers.

They stumbled through the hallways, lights flashing and the alarms only getting louder as they neared the exit. Amata rounded the corner first, looking over her shoulder at Lucie as she entered the Vault door control room. Lucie pulled a 10mm SMG free from the bloody hands of a vault guard, killed in the earlier attack.

Turning towards the hallway they had just run down, she fires a burst at the shadows following them. The figures slammed against the bulkheads, seeking cover where none existed. They returned fire, red lasers and globs of burning green plasma burned the metal around her; burning her right arm.

"Mother, anytime now!" she yelled as she fired another burst down the corridor. Just as she said the words the large metal door groaned open, dirt and grime falling from its ancient cogs. Lucie grinned as the opening grew larger, firing another burst; she sprinted towards the opening. Clearing the area outside, she waved her mother forward.

Grinning again, she shouted to her mother "Come on, we're almost there."

Yet, the words came too soon. One distinct laser blast sounded out above the rest. Lucie's eyes widened as Amata's mouth hung open; a trickle of blood seeping from her mouth, she stumbled forward. Lucie ran forward, only to be driven back by red blasts of burning fire.

"Mother!" she screamed, her voice shrill. Amata crawled towards the vault door, blood trickling between her fingers, lying against the cold and unforgiving metal.

"Lucie…run." She whispered, blood freely flowing from her mouth. "You have…to leave me." She said as she pulled a black device from her breast pocket. Lucie stared at her mother, tears flowing free and mouth open in a silent scream.

"GO NOW!" Amata screamed, pulling her pistol free and firing towards the shadows. Lucie turned and ran from the doorway, stumbling over rocks and rubble strewn across the tunnel. As she reached the ancient door, she stole one last look towards her mother and stepped through the doorway into the Wastes.

Amata looked towards her daughter, sighing as she felt her blood seeping from her veins. Her smile, growing as the door closes. _"Good girl, time for you to grow up."_ Looking down at her palm, she caressed the deadly object, the detonator waiting to be used. Smiling as she pressed the trigger, only one thought passed through her mind.

"_Where are you Kyle Walsh?" _her thumb dropping off the trigger, the signal sent to blocks of C4 placed throughout the Vault. That signal bounced from block to block and activated their explosive power. The blast echoed through the vault, fire burning the still bodies of the residents and attacker alike. The shadows ran toward the entrance, the fire engulfing them, their screams falling on deaf ears.

The fire rushed forth, drawing Amata's eyes. _"Goodbye Lucie…goodbye Kyle."_ She thought as the fires engulfed her body, giving her the only honorable death she deserved.

**Well, what did yall think? Epic enough death for Amata…doesn't deserve it if ya ask me. For the love of all that is holy, review! I'm dying here people.**


	3. Hi, My name is

**Hey I'm back, hope ya missed me, got all my profile stuff fixed so I will be updating regularly now. Well, without further ado…Fallout!**

June 27, 2294 Springville 11:30

The bright sunlight burned Lucie's eyes as she wandered to the cliff edge, her feet trudging along; kicking rocks and dust in the air. Her heart was still pounding from the rush of adrenaline going through her system and that was all she was running on. She tried to replay the past two hours in her mind, how much her life has changed and what has been taken from her.

"_Mom…what is going to happen now?"_ she wondered as she walked to the cliff edge and sat down. Her head down, brown hair hanging in her face obscuring the tears that stained her grease stained face; _"I'm only nineteen, I can't live like this."_

Lucie continued to cry, tears flowing freely now, as she sat on the barren cliff. She could see burned and decayed houses, some without roofs and walls; down the street from there was a school. The school itself seemed like it was the only building in good condition compared to the rest.

"You know what?" Lucie asked herself, standing and brushing her hands on her already dirty and torn vault suit. "I'm going to live, I'm going to survive." She said as she slipped her submachine gun off her shoulder. Squaring her shoulders, Lucie nods and takes a single step, just as the door behind her explodes.

Half a mile off, Marc was walking down Springville, Main Street, his satchel filled with his 'loot'. He had been picking through the remains of a two-story house when the ground rumbled beneath him, knocking what glass was in the windows out onto the ground. He had run outside to be greeted by a large plume of smoke, hanging over the old cave to the infamous Vault 101.

Immediately, he dropped his satchel and switched his rifle to semi-auto; starting into an easy jog. As he ran, he passed the twisted ruins of homes left standing for hundreds of years; the buildings were ghastly reminders of what evil men can do.

Marc cocks his head, this time hearing a rumble from the sky, noticing the grey storm clouds begin to fill the darkening sky.

"Gotta hurry." He said out loud, quickening his pace over the uneven concrete. Marc rounded the corner, using the remnants of the cars as cover. Sitting down behind an old truck which was missing its doors, he ejected his magazine, rechecking its contents.

"_Ok, twenty-five rounds…ten are armor-piercing intermixed with hollow points."_ Marc rose to a crouch, just as an explosion knocked him flat on his ass. The seventeen year-old grumbled as teenagers do, picking himself off the ground, pulling his sunglasses. Marc grabbed his rifle's bolt, pulling it back and readying it for action; breathing in and out, trying to calm his haggard, nervous breathing. He screamed and ran up the slope of the hill, ready for anything…or so he thought.

Black smoke poured from the tunnel opening, filling the already dark sky; thunder boomed and streaks of lightning flashed across the sky as the rain began to fall. Marc tore of the tourniquet he kept tied to his thigh, wrapping it around the barrel grip, keeping it from slipping in the rain.

Marc's breath was labored, his blood pumping in his ears, as he walked through the rapidly becoming mud. He was amazed by the gaping hole in the face of the mountain, remembering when he visited on a trading mission, which the massive vault door lay inside. The Infiltrator hung uselessly by his side, forgotten, as rain continued to pour into the earth.

Walking away from the blast area, Marc turned from the destruction; tears running down his face as he thought of the kind residents he met when he was ten years old.

"Their gone…" he said to no one, the rain drowning out his voice as he shamefully wiped his tears away.

Noticing something shift in his peripherals, Marc snapped his rifle up, scanning for the movement. His face bent over the sights, he licked is lips in anticipation; a million thoughts racing through his mind.

"_Was it raiders…could it be yaio gui…oh no, a deathclaw!" _he rapidly shook his head, clearing his thoughts; they were scaring him and that definitely didn't help the situation. Walking forward towards the cliff, he noticed a sleeve of blue sticking out from behind a large boulder.

"Gotcha!" he shouted wheeling his rifle around, yet only finding a torn sleeve from a vault jumpsuit. Marc picked it up, just as something cold and hard, once again, pressed into his skull.

"Oh, man…" he sighing as he dropped his rifle and raised his hands, his heart was audibly thudding in his chest.

"_God, please help me."_ He thought, just as he spun round, knocking the barrel away from his head. The gun discharged next to Marc's ear, leaving it ringing as he form-tackled the figure to the ground. The mud splattered onto his face as he wrestled the automatic from the…girl's hand, finally pinning the vault girl's hands above her head.

"Ha…I win." He said triumphantly as she continued to squirm underneath him. "You going to relax?" he asked.

Marc got his answer when she head-butted him…hard; dazed, he slipped off of her. This allowed her to leap to her feet, covered in mud now from the scuffle and snatch the 10mm submachine gun back.

Lucie was scared and that was a first for her. Hell, it was a day of firsts in a lot of things. Her mother was dead, only home attacked and destroyed by unknown assailants, and now she got in a wrestling match with a…teenage boy!

She shook her head as she pointed the deadly end of the automatic at the boy, well…he looked to be her age, cute too.

Mentally slapping herself, _"Come on, he's probably some degenerate tribal who screws his sister."_ She took a step forward, brandishing the weapon. The teen raised his right hand, as if to ward off Lucie. Inspecting the clothes he was wearing, she could at least determine that he was well-equipped and healthy.

"_Nothing like the raiders Mom showed me last year" _she unwillingly shuddered, the Vault 101 survey crew had scouted out the area surrounding the Vault and came back with some disturbing images. Men, women, and children were staked to walls, blood everywhere; the survey team also had to fight off a few sentries, resulting in the death of two raiders. The other, a man wearing hands on his belt with a purple Mohawk, ran away screaming bloody murder.

"_I will not let that happen to me…"_ she thought cocking the 10mm SMG. Lucie took another step forward, jumping in surprise when the boy's foot snapped up and kicked it out of her slippery grip. She yelped as the boy surprised her again, this time drawing a pistol and pointing it at her chest.

Stumbling as he stood, Marc quickly drew his Glock after he kicked the vault girl's SMG out of her hand. The rain lessened to a drizzle as they stood facing one another, lightening flashing in the darkness. Narrowing his eyes, he began to circle the girl; who was now circling with him. On her face was a determined stare, not giving up even when she was unarmed.

Marc stopped near the embankment he had charged up, blocking her escape. The vault girl scanned left and right, trying to find another way out; yet her shoulders sagged.

"Who are you?" Marc asked, looking into the girl's eyes. They were green and complemented her face perfectly, the rain washing away any remaining mud. She stood at about 5'11 and was slim, but not skinny; like a runner in an old Pre-War magazine he'd seen. The thing that surprised him the most was the innocence in her eyes, something you never saw in the Wasteland, but within that innocence there was a fire. That fire, Marc didn't know yet, would change his life.

Lucie was startled at the softness in the boy's voice, strong but kind. She shifted as a blush suddenly crept up her cheeks, despite the cold rain. _"Answer him, you idiot!"_ a voice shouted at her.

"Um…it's um…Lucie." She nervously said, blushing even harder despite her best control. He seemed to relax at that point, lowering the pistol, but not holstering it. They continued to stare at each other, blue into green until a bright lightning bolt caused them both to flinch.

"Well, I'm Marc Brown" he said sheepishly, holstering his pistol and holding out his hand. "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

The girl, Lucie, gently took his hand; causing his heart to skip a beat. He smiled the first true grin he had smiled since his father had disappeared, he never wanted to let go of her hand.

"_Where had that come from?" _he asked himself, dropping her hand and tried to cover his reddening cheeks.

"Um, Lucie, hate to be the bearer of bad news; but that smoke is going to attract a lot of attention." He said quickly changing his demeanor and walking towards his rifle and her SMG; picking them up from the mud.

Handing her weapon back, he continued "We need to move away now, back to Megaton." He finished as he shook mud from his hair and clothes. The duster was covered in it, which meant he was going to need to wash it and he hated washing clothes.

Lucie laughed as Marc shook like a wet dog, making her momentarily forget what had recently transpired, but she knew it would resurface soon.

"Well, let's head to…Megaton was it?" she asked anxiously, picking mud from the receiver, noticing Marc had pointed off in the distance as they began walking; their boots being sucked down as they walked.

They talked for what seemed forever as they trudged through the destroyed streets, enjoying each other's company, but they made one mistake…walking in the open.

Wake was bored, nothing was happening and he was stuck in the rain. Shaking his head as he attempted to light a cigarette, the old plastic lighter sputtered once before dying.

"Dammit!" he cursed, throwing the lighter and cigarette away. He turned back towards the open window he was stationed in; right now the old Springville Elementary School was being used as the raider gang's main base. Wake could remember when they had tried to tunnel into the damn vault and then how he and Purple had barely survived when some blasted vault kid came and wiped out the entire gang.

Wake shuddered at the memory, the kid's assault rifle barking and tearing into Lash's body, blowing her chest wide open. He had been hiding in a broom closet and had seen her drop to the ground by looking through a hole in the door.

Blinking as he turned toward the open land, he surveyed the same blown up houses that were standing when he was here the first time. He reached for his hunting rifle, a wimpy old thing that could barely fire anymore, and sighted down the barrel. Sweeping back and forth he spotted movement, a girl and boy, both in their teens; completely oblivious to him. Wake smiled darkly, settling on the boy and squeezing the trigger.

Marc had been enjoying his talk with Lucie, learning about how she ended up in the Wasteland, but she was sparse on the details. He figured she didn't fully trust him yet, but was at least being friendly to him.

Lucie laughed as he tripped over an old bike, ending up on the ground. Still laughing, she reached down grasping his and pulling him up; but she slipped as he stood and Lucie stumbled into Marc's arms.

Marc flinched as she touched him, his arms instinctually wrapping around her; wanting to protect her. Lucie sighed into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of leather and gunpowder which lingered on his clothes.

Just as she closed her eyes, a distant shot rang out; ripping Marc from her arms. Blood splattered on her face as his weight shifted forward, bringing Lucie with him. Another shot rang out, this time revealing the sniper's position, she grasped for Marc's rifle; the only thing with a scope.

Lucie crawled forward, belly scrapping on the sharp rocks, and slid against an old Cadillac. The sniper, over-eager, fired again. This gave Lucie time to stand, aim, and squeeze the trigger; firing rapidly at the school.

Because she didn't account for the recoil, most of her shots went wide; but enough hit around the window where the sniper was laying. Lucie ducked back down, waiting for the return fire, but none came; peeking up she looked towards the school.

The old rusted doors remained closed and no activity came from the windows. All was quiet and still, covering up the short exchange of fire like it never happened.

Lucie reached up, blindly firing just in case, and then sprinted towards Marc. His duster was soaked with blood, from what she could see the bullet had entered from his left side; but she couldn't find the exit wound.

"Marc…come on kid, stay with me...please." Lucie begged as she tore Marc's shirt into strips for bandages. He weakly groaned, blood bubbling out of his mouth and trickled down his chin.

Marc strained to open his eyes, finally succeeding. He felt like a Brahmin had run him down and stomped multiple times. Looking at Lucie, her face sweating with tears in her eyes, he whispered softly; barely even heard and raised his finger pointing towards home.

"You have…to go…there." He choked out as his hand went limp and everything faded to black.

**Well, what do ya think? Chemistry maybe, I promise next chapter will have plenty of action. Review my friends, it keeps me going. If ya got questions or ideas I'm all ears. **


	4. Party of a Lifetime

**Hey, I'm back. Sorry bout the long wait, been thinking a bunch about this chapter. Enjoy**

June 28, 2294 Megaton

Droplets of rain fell across the Wasteland, darkening the sky. The sky rumbled with thunder, like the gods of Ancient Greece were at war again, but war; war never changes.

In the ruins of Springville, raiders were burying the body of Wake. The veteran raider had been killed by accident, a random fluke. He had been on watch when Megaton settlers had fired on him; the 5.56 rounds had hit weakened support pillars, causing them to collapse on top of him.

Their leader, Hitch, walked to the center of the crowd. All were in attendance, twenty-five altogether, each a veteran of a dozen raids. Their eyes burned with the fires of vengeance, to take the lives of the settlers and not to just kill them, but to ruin them in such a way; that their souls will feel the agony.

Hitch slowly surveyed the dirty crowd, torches lighting their faces. He grinned, his teeth crooked and a ghastly brown color, and laughed. The raiders all joined in, their evil laughs echoing through the empty Wastes, as they turned and stared at the shining lights of Megaton.

Stockholm stood, his semi-quiet vigil interrupted by an echoing sound. The rain, only a slight drizzle now, didn't help him pinpoint the noise. It came and went, like the lives of so many in the Wastes. He shrugged, turning back into his guard post, thinking _"Must be the wind"._

July 5, 2294 Megaton

The streets of Megaton clamored with the noise of a bustling town, but this wasn't a normal day. Today was the day that the Enclave had finally been pushed from the Wasteland, their tails tucked between legs as they scurried away.

Lights and streamers adorned the normally bland buildings and walkways, giving a sense of vibrancy to the old town. Men and women worked together as they cooked, cleaned, and prepared for a night of festivities; open tents were raised and an old stage was brought out for the band to play on. Children screamed as they raced down the streets and hills of the town center, playing tag and just being children, awaiting the games to come that night.

Marc awoke to the shouts and laughs of children echoing through his father's old house. He groaned, sunlight streaking through the cracks in the window shutters. He groaned again, but this time in pain, as he tried to roll over; his side aching as he did so. It was the aftermath of the sniper round he had taken a week ago, a week after he met Lucie Alomdovar.

"_Man…What a girl." _He thought as he rose from his bed crossing into his bathroom. He had been thinking of her constantly since he woke up from surgery, she had carried him to Megaton and saved his life with her field-triage. After that, she helped old man Walter with the water purification plant; finally completing the repairs. In her short time here, she had made a good bunch of friends and more than one admirer.

Marc turned the shower on, sighing as the warm water soothed his wounds. The flesh was still an angry red color, a long gash rounding his bicep and a small hole on his side. The round was using black powder, inept at the distance; but still packed a wallop. Running his hands through his hair, he spoke out loud, "Today's going to be interesting.", as his mind drifted to Lucie once again.

The sun shined as the settlers finished the rest of the preparations for the big event. The band had begun to play old Pre-War songs as colored flags flapped in the warm breeze and distracted the children yet again from their chores.

Laughing as they watched the kids run past them chasing after an old baseball, Lucie and Marc sat at the Brass Lantern bar. They were both sipping on Nuka-Cola, talking about their individual lives and learning more about one another. Moira watched from her perch above them, taking a break from a particularly explosive experiment.

"_Marc…When did you grow up?"_ she asked herself as the two teenagers laughed loudly, attracting attention from Jenny Stahl, who smiled lightly at the teens. Moira leaned over the railing, ignoring the groaning sound coming from the rails, and smiled brightly as Lucie covered her mouth, laughing loudly again.

"_Today will be a night to remember."_

"Oh, but here's the best part." Explained Marc as he told the story of his first experiment with his mother when he was only eight. "The hot plate exploded, throwing the plate into the air, straight at our old guard." He laughed, remembering the day like it happened an hour ago.

Lucie listened intently, green eyes locked to his blue. She smiled, only to be dwarfed by Marc's as he laughed again. "So he started yelling at us about being freaking nuts and that he was quitting," he laughed again his face turning red even more, "Only after that did he realize that his ass was on fire."

Lucie busted out laughing, covering her mouth as her drink threatened to spill out. Marc laughed even harder at Lucie's antics, grabbing his gut as he tried to control himself. Finally calming down, they finished their drinks, dropped a few caps and took off for the main gate.

They had agreed to take Stockholm his lunch, talking still about the party tonight. They climbed the ladder closest to the sentry tower, where Stockholm seemed to live.

Marc reached down towards Lucie, offering his hand to help her up. Smiling as she did so, Lucie handed the bag of food to Marc and slipped past him. Laughing at the face Marc was making, Lucie skipped towards Stockholm, seated in front of the guard rails.

"Hey, Stock, brought ya some food old man." Lucie joked as she shook his shoulder…only to have him slump to the ground. Lucie gasped, tripping and falling to the deck plates, trying to scramble away from the body. Marc rushed forward, pulling Stockholm forward. He quickly rolled him over to check his wounds, only to have his mouth sag open at the sight.

Stockholm's throat was gone, ripped away. Blood and gore covered the front of his chest, streaming down the chair to the scaffolding. It looked as if a Radscorpion had sliced his throat open, the wound was that terrible, and he had bled out in seconds.

Marc sat back, hands running through his hair. _"Oh…Holy shit…Stockholm."_

Realizing what must be done; he stood and made the length to the alarm in record time. Slamming his hand on the red button, he shouted through the intercom, "ALARM! Stockholm is down!"

Turning around, only then did he see that Lucie had curled up into a ball, whimpering with tears streaming down her face. Marc slid close, wrapping his arms around him, remembering the first time he had seen something this terrible and personal.

Lucie cried, tears running down her face as she rocked back and forth. She barely registered Marc's arms closing around her, lifting her in the air as the first gun shots rang out. _"So much death…let it end!"_

He ran past everyone, children screaming, men swearing, and women grabbing the children. Marc made it to his mother's store just as it burst open with settlers. They rushed out, now armed to the teeth with weapons from the armory. As the last ran out, Marc found Lucas and Hardin in an argument already.

"No! You are too young to lead the defense!" shouted Lucas above the noise. Hardin's face twisted together, obviously thinking differently.

Squaring his shoulders, he stood up to his father. "Dad, I'm twenty years old and you taught me." He explained to his father, "I am damn well old enough!"

He finished, turning on his heel as he un-slung his M-16 from his back. Hardin nodded to Marc, eyes slightly widening as he saw the state Lucie was in; he walked out and ran off to the fighting.

Lucas sighed, his weathered shoulders slumping down. Marc brushed past him as Lucas looked up.

"Marc, it's the raiders." He said as Marc laid Lucie, now unconscious, on his bed. Marc nodded his head tucking Lucie under the sheets, and softly caressed her cheek. Lucas coughed, wishing he was in the fighting and not with a love-struck teen.

His cheeks reddened as he abruptly stood up, remembering where he was and what was happening. Walking to his trunk, he pulled out his Infiltrator; sliding spare magazines in his jeans pockets and strapped his Glock to his thigh. As he was doing so, Lucas looked out the window towards the fighting, growing more intense with each second.

"Lucas, I need you to stay here and protect my mom and Lucie." Marc said as he slid his combat knife into his boot. "This is the high ground, its more defensible…you know that." He finished as he walked to Lucie's bed, out of the corner of his eye, Marc could see Lucas nod his head.

Sitting down on the bed, Marc leaned over Lucie's still body, her chest moving up and down slowly. He cupped her face in his hand, gently wiping a streak of dirt away with his thumb.

"_I'm coming back, be here…please."_ He hoped that somehow his words reached her as he leaned down, softly kissing her cheek.

Just when he did, the door flew open, Moira rushing in with a bandolier of grenades. She tossed them to Marc, who fumbled them multiple times in his hands. She leaned her head against Marc's, "I want you to be safe…ok?" Moira asked, kissing the top of his head. Marc nodded his head, hugging his mother to his chest.

Releasing her, Marc nodded to Lucas and sprinted from the room; rushing to join the battle.

The air was heavy with the smell of gunpowder and blood as Marc ran to join in the defense of Megaton. His heart was beating like a drum, echoing in his ears, as he ran down the ramp to the top of Doc's place. The raiders had taken the area to the front, including the Brass Lantern; judging from the amount of gunfire from that area. The defenders had hastily erected a barricade to keep the burning lead from their bodies.

Spotting Hardin, Marc pushed himself harder as he closed the distance between them, bullets kicking dirt around his boots; making him jump every couple of strides. Finally making it to the barricade, he crouched next to Hardin and Billy Creel; who was blasting away with his trusty .44 and managed to down a raider. The man had chose to sprint across at the wrong moment, taking the round directly in the chest, blowing him back and splattering the bomb with gore.

Pumping his fist, Billy hooted as the body joined the others who had strayed away from cover. Only then did Marc see the bodies of several settlers littering the ground between them. Andy Stahl was draped over a table and old man Walter was leaning against the stage, blood slowly trickling from the holes torn into him.

Marc felt the anger in him peak as another settler took a burst of gunfire in the chest, throwing him to the ground not ten yards from Marc. Seeing this, Marc rose to his feet, firing his rifle at the raiders cowering behind the Brass Lantern's bar. The bullets ricocheted all around the three raiders there, sparks flashing all around, blowing out the neon sign above them.

One raider, a female with spiked mowhawks, stood to return fire; she fired her rusty shotgun. Ducking as the buckshot tore into the cover, Marc ejected his magazine, fumbling for a spare.

"Fuck you bitch!" yelled the raider as she rushed their position, her combat shotgun blasting away at their cover. She rounded the corner by the ramp before anyone could bring her down, the raider grinned as she raised the shotgun, prepared to put Hardin, Marc, and Billy six feet under. Hardin visibly flinched as the woman pulled the trigger, only to have it click empty; the raider's smile fell and her face contorted into a snarl as she rushed up the ramp. She was swinging the shotgun by its stock, intent on killing someone; sadly for her, Hardin recovered quickly. He opened up with his automatic, riddling the raider bitch full of holes, blood spraying everywhere as her chest caved in from the amount of lead hitting her.

Hardin was frozen in place, his rifle making a faint clicking noise as his finger kept pulling the trigger. Marc moved to him, a temporary lull in the firing as the combatants waited for the smoke to clear.

"Hardin…Hey, man you ok?" asked Marc shaking his shoulder. That seemed to snap him out of it; Hardin quickly nodded his head, brushing the hand off of his shoulder as he stood. The two teens and adult stood together, rifles and revolver at the ready.

Billy motioned for them to move, to try to outflank the raiders; so he started down the rusted ramp. The boys followed him, Hardin pausing to kick the bloody corpse, and circled behind the old atom bomb.

Marc could feel the slight tickle of radiation seeping into him as they stood in the water. Afterwards, he thought, they're going to need some Rad-Away for sure. The quiet lull brought a strange peace to the battered town, doors could be heard opening as the residents came out of their homes; thinking the worst was over.

Billy signaled to Gob, Nova, and another settler that had come out to get back inside. Yet, as he did so, intense gunfire rang out from the bar and stage area in front of the bomb. Gob shoved Nova back inside the saloon and vaulted over the railing onto the roof below, while the settler pulled a pistol and fired back.

As one, Marc, Hardin, and Billy opened fire on the remaining raiders; downing another in an explosive spray of blood as Billy's magnum tore into his arm, severing it from the rest of his disgusting body. He bled out in seconds as the two remaining raiders ignored him, firing back at Billy; driving him back around the bomb.

Marc glanced to Hardin; his shots had become erratic as the pressure mounted. He could see the wild look in his eyes as he fired over and over, not even caring to aim precisely.

"Hardin!" he yelled as he shoved his shoulder. "You need to relax, bro!"

The boy turned, his eyes bloodshot from battle-craze, and punched Marc in the gut. Gasping loudly as he fell into the muddy water, he looked up to see Hardin rush around the opposite side of the bomb. Billy shouted for him to stop, but the boy kept ignoring him; firing towards the hidden raiders. Just as he reached them, his rifle clicked dry. Taking advantage of that, the raiders, a male and female, rose and fired as one.

Marc watched in horror as Hardin's body shook apart from the impact of each round. The woman shouted in triumph as his body fell into the dirt, staining the ground with his blood. Marc screamed as he watched the still body of his friend grow still in the dust, Billy shouted in anger and sadness as another life was taken.

Marc reached down to his chest, ripping a grenade from his bandolier; pulling the pin and throwing it across the open ground. The male raider shouted a warning, leaping away at the same moment; but was too late for the woman. The blast blew her apart, spraying her blood and guts against the Brass Lantern; bits of her showering the raider as he scrambled away.

In his anger, Marc crossed the distance between himself and the last raider. The man, dirty with a prominent purple Mohawk, scrambled around looking for his rifle which had been blown away.

Hitch scrambled around, trying to spot his hunting rifle after the grenade from that stupid kid had blasted it away. He heard crunching coming closer and as he turned, he saw the kid approaching with a deadly looking automatic and a look of pure hatred.

Eyes wild with fear, Hitch fell to his ass, scrambling backwards again as the boy came closer. Forgetting about his rifle, he pulled his knife from his belt; brandishing it wildly.

"I'll gut you!" He screamed, spittle flying from his cracked lips as he charged the boy, it's just a kid; how tough can he be?

Marc relished the look of fear and desperation in the eyes of the raider. He barely heard Billy shout for him to move; he needed a clear shot. No, that sorry excuse for a man just killed one of his best friends and he will pay. The raider blindly charged out of anger, slashing at him with the serrated knife.

He batted away the knife with a quick swing of his rifle, kicking the man directly in his chest; earning a rough gasp of pain from the man. Marc tossed his rifle to the ground as he knelt; pulling his own K-Bar.

The raider charged him again, slashing into Marc's arm, making the raider shout with excitement. "Haha, BLOOD!" Hitch screamed as the boy backed away, pressing a hand to his arm. Hitch grinned to himself, maybe he'll survive after all.

The wound only seemed to intensify Marc's anger. The blood ran down his arm, adding his life essence to the dirt, joining the blood of so many others. He met the raider's charge, grabbing the man's wrist as they fought for control; muscles flaring and veins bulging as they wrestled one another. The raider threw his fist into Marc's face, making his vision swim violently. He responded with a headbutt, something he learned from a friend of his; making the raider's grip weaken more.

Marc took advantage of this, lowering his level and driving his shoulder into the raider's stomach. They landed in debris from the bar, rolling around the ground; bystanders now watching from the railings as thunder echoed in the distance.

Rain began to fall as the two brawlers continued to punch, kick, and elbow to finish the fight. The lightning flashed across the sky, making it seem like a Pre-War fight scene; as the clanking of water on metal drowned out everything else.

Just when Marc thought his biceps would fail, the rain, now soaking them to the bone; caused the raider's hand to slip off of Marc's knife hand. With a scream of rage, Marc summoned the rest of his strength, driving the blade to the hilt. The raider's mouth hung open in a silent scream as blood flowed freely from his mouth; they fell together to the mud.

Gasping for air, Marc stabbed again and again into the man; wanting retribution for all that had happened today. Blood splattered all over his chest, staining his shirt and running into the puddle around the bomb. The raider continued to gasp for air, looking like a fish out of water, as he fought for his last breath.

The last thought that went through Hitch's mind before his vision blackened was one thing. _"Wh_y_ didn't we finish that damn tunnel?"_

Breathing heavily as the body of the raider grew still, Marc stood up. The K-Bar covered in blood and gore, now dripping onto the face of the raider. He walked to Hardin, fingers blindly searching for a pulse that he knew he wouldn't find; Hardin's eyes were staring blindly into the sky. No movement came from his chest, none in his limbs; Marc slumped to the ground, utterly exhausted. Before exhaustion took him, he heard one word.

"HARDIN!"

**Wheew, its done. Been working on that for awhile, figuring out the battle plan. Well, Marc seems pretty angry, what's going to happen next? Only I know, MUHAHAHA**

**Sorry, need to compose myself. Well, anyway ill be updating again in a little bit.**

**Please review, I miss the reviews.**


	5. The Prodigal Father

**Hey, the latest installment of the story. Enjoy people.**

July 8, 2294 Megaton 9:45 AM

The wind blew across the Wasteland, sweeping up dust and trash into the air. An old newspaper, letters and articles long gone, flew through the air as it was carried towards the city of Megaton. It blew past the figures that were massed together in the city cemetery, coming to rest on a freshly dug grave.

The crowd of Megaton citizens bowed their heads in silence for the fallen. Among them were friends, family, and strangers; but each struck at the heart. The wind howled in their ears as they stood in silent reverence and sorrow.

Marc stood beside Lucie and Lucas; one crying and the other standing like a solemn statue. His hair was swept back as another gust of wind blew into them; bringing with it an old faded newspaper. He bent over, using his left hand as the right was currently in a sling, and picked it up from the grave.

Three days…that's how long it has been since the attack. The raiders had killed exactly fifteen people and wounded at least twenty others; physically and mentally; they had swept across the town center before anyone had noticed. The raider leader had planted disguised raiders throughout the town, using the festival as the perfect distraction; silently killing Stockholm.

Marc shook his head, thinking back to the battle. If only he had been faster, more accurate, more experienced; then maybe Hardin wouldn't be six feet under the ground. He blamed himself, he should have been able to stop Hardin from jumping from cover; should have noticed the symptoms…if only.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucie saw Marc shaking his head for the hundredth time. She realized days ago that Marc blamed himself for Hardin's death, that somehow he could have stopped the bullets. Lucie shivered involuntary, pulling her jacket tighter around her, as she thought of the scene. She had finally woken up when an explosion shook the entire building, rushing out of the room and then building.

She was shocked by the amount of smoke and smell of death all around her, it seemed to filter down her throat; threatening to drown her in the despair. Lucie surveyed the crown gathered around her, vaguely listening to Doc Church reading from a little black book. Her eyes fixated on Lucas, head bowed with tears glistening in the morning sun; he was the first one she had seen. Lucas had been running down the ramp, his customary sheriff hat long forgotten in the dust as he rushed towards a distant body.

It was then that Lucie had realized the body was Hardin's and the one next to it could only be Marc's. Her heart leapt in her throat at the thought of Marc lying there in his own blood. She had raced down to her friends, praying to God that they were still alive, just a trace of life; if anything.

A solemn murmur from the crowd snapped her from her thoughts, the service was over. The crowd slowly dispersed, going on with their lives; yet another hardship to face. All waited to pay their respects to the dead, especially Lucas. The man seemed to age overnight, his once gray-speckled beard had gone grey, and his proud shoulders had slumped; never to rise again.

Lucas didn't seem to even notice the pats and words of condolence from the settlers as they passed him by. His eyes were fixed on the ground, specifically the cross in front of him. On the centerpiece, etched with in with a knife, was a single name…Hardin Simms.

Marc walked to the right of Lucas as he finally let the tears flow free. He wrapped his available arm around his shoulder, letting his own tears join in. Lucie, feeling like she was intruding, stood away from the men; giving them their moment. Yet, she could not help but feel the guilt creep up her spine, knowing that this wouldn't have happened if she hadn't come.

"No father should outlive his son." said Lucas as he wiped his face with an old kerchief, speaking to Marc; who could only nod his head in agreement. He stepped forward, pulling his sheriff's hat off of his balding head. Lucas kneeled next to his son's grave, placing the hat on the top of the cross; the only gift Lucas could think of.

Lucas couldn't help but laugh to himself. He turned, looking at Marc, noticing how much he looked like his father. "Hardin had always wanted my hat." He said standing up, feeling his bones creak in his legs.

"I'm getting old Marc," Lucas said turning to the young man, "I think it's time I retire." He said placing his hand on Marc's shoulder, gently squeezing. He slowly walked to the gates of Megaton, instantly looking up for Stockholm, only to realize that much has changed.

Marc watched as Lucas entered Megaton, his old duster flowing out behind him as the gate shuddered closed. He knelt to the ground, playing with a twig in the dirt, trying to think of what to say; but the words were halting on his tongue.

"Hardin…why man?" he asked to the grave, wishing he knew why his best friend had used drugs. When they had rushed him into the medical clinic, they had stripped him of his jacket, causing a used syringe of Psycho fall from the inner pocket. It had caused him to lose all sense of control and reasoning; making him charge the raiders, sealing his fate.

Lucie walked forward, kneeling next to Marc, slipping her arms around him. Marc instantly felt at peace, knowing that the answers didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that he kept his friends, family, and Lucie safe. That was his purpose, but to do that he would need to figure out who attacked Vault 101.

Only then would they be safe, only then could Marc hope to have a normal life. He stood, Lucie standing with him as he faced out towards the open Wastes. Marc vowed that nothing would stop him, that he would kill all those responsible; but to do that, he would need help.

The corridors echoed with the sounds of running as Paladin Vargas ran towards the Den. Clutched in his gauntlet was the recon reports from Sector 14, AKA Megaton. He slammed open the door to the Den, interrupting the card game between Lyon's Pride and startling the initiates.

"Elder…Megaton." He said hunched over with his hands on his knees, panting from the sprint from the comm. Tower to the A Ring.

The Elder set his cards down, slowly standing from his chair as all eyes were on him. "Initiates, out!" he barked, causing them to trip over themselves to get away from their leader. He crossed the room, pulling the reports from the Vargas' hands and shuffled through them, reading quickly.

His steel-blue eyes widened at the reports. "Are these accurate?" he asked turning to the paladin.

"Yes Elder, Megaton has been attacked." He replied knowing what would come next. His eyes watched as their Elder paced around the room, coming to terms with the news. He locked eyes with the Pride's commander, Sentinel Lyon.

"Sarah, muster the rest of Pride." He said clasping his hands behind his back, awaiting the typical response from the crack squad.

"Yes sir, Elder Walsh!" they shouted together, power armor humming as they raced out of the Den. He quickly left the room, robes billowing out as he walked to his and Sarah's room. Opening the door, he quickly shed his outer robe and began to attach his power armor to his body; the scuffed silver plating shined in the fluorescent lighting.

Finishing, he plucked his Gauss rifle off the wall pegs, slipping it onto his back as he tightened the straps of his thigh holster. He entered the briefing room which originally housed Liberty Prime, now used as the main Ops area. The Pride was assembled, now numbering twelve, most veterans after the numerous conflicts with the Super Mutants.

His steel-blue eyes scanned the men and women before him, nodding his head in pride. Kyle slipped the power helmet over his face, voice now distorted from the rebreather.

"Pride, move out!"

**Well that is the last chapter of this series. I'm thinking bout taking a break from fallout and writing bout something else. Not many seem interested so I might not start this back up, but I left it so that I could start again.**

**If ya want me to continue then review, tell me your opinions. I like hearing them people. FalloutRanger out.**


	6. Home Sweet Home:Part 1

**Well, I decided to continue the story. I guess I got bummed cuz of the small reviews, but for those encouraging me, thank you. The next chapters…enjoy!**

July 10, 2294 Springville

The ruins of Springville were once again disturbed by scavengers, picking it clean for hidden treasures. The group of settlers moved through the buildings, searching for materials to rebuild the damage from the attack on Megaton. The old buildings creaked gently in the steady breeze as two teens lifted an old, decomposing door off of a rusted safe.

Lucie sneezed loudly as a thick cloud of dust wafted into her face. Her eyes began to water again as she felt another sneeze creeping up, quickly covering as it hit. She wiped her face, blushing as the boy next to her, Marc, laughed loudly. They had been sent along with Billy Creel and his daughter Maggie to search the Springville ruins for any supplies; from usable scrap to the nonexistent medical supplies.

Sighing as she sat down on the front porch of the empty house, her new jeans protecting her from the mud, Lucie looked around. She could see Maggie scrambling up on an old sheet-metal roof, working to rip it from its nails, her father standing below her examining a rusted motorcycle. Leaning back on her hands, Lucie studied the final member of the group, Marc.

The teen had easily become her best friend in the time spent in the Wastes, Lucie got along with Maggie, but something clicked with Marc. He seemed so calm despite the terror of the recent attack, standing beside a yellow convertible, long ago destroyed. His hair, a light brown, was pulled up with a dusty grey headwrap; which seemed to accent his steel-blue eyes perfectly.

"_Makes him all the more mysterious."_ She thought as she watched him raised up the trunk to inspect the inside.

Once again, her thoughts turned to the Vault and her mother and what had happened only about two weeks ago. She remembered how she had been woken by pounding on the door of her room, the adrenaline of firing at dark figures and dodging laser blasts. Then the escape, her mother being shot and the explosion from the inside of the Vault; those thoughts kept running through her mind.

Lucie sighed loudly, forgetting about Marc as she fiddled with her Pip-Boy; the green screen flickering as she scrolled through old photographs of her mother and herself. The one that stood out the most was of when she had received her G.O.A.T assignment, vault security. Lucie stood by her mother proudly, sporting the standard armament and armor; Lucie could not have been happier that day.

Laughing to herself, she realized the only reason she survived the attack was because of the training she received as a guard…and the help of a certain boy.

Marc grunted with exertion as he lifted a scrap of metal onto the back of the Brahmin, which groaned in annoyance. "Hey, now don't be giving me any lip." He laughed as the Brahmin seemed to glare at him.

He turned on his heel, duster sweeping behind him, as he walked to the growing pile of metal. Billy chucked yet another scrap onto the pile, making a loud crash which made Lucie and Maggie flinch.

"Haha, y'all are more skittish than a boatfly during hunting season." He laughed again as the girls glared daggers at him. He turned toward Marc, handing him an interesting scrap. It was jet black, with just a hint of red streaked across it. The metal seemed to have been a part of something of what he could not be sure of. Marc shrugged his shoulders as he slipped the piece into his satchel, maybe he'd find a use for it.

Bending down to retrieve his rifle, Marc asked, "We find any med supplies?"

"No, not yet." Replied Lucie as she joined the group. She was wearing the typical wasteland attire, jeans with a T-shirt; but added on was Marc's old leather chest piece. The lower portion was too large for Lucie's legs, but Moira had been able to adjust the chest piece enough for it to be comfortable. Currently at Megaton, a set of new armor was being made by Moira and Lucas; two of the most experienced people anyone would meet.

"Well, seems we're going to have to return empty-handed" sighed Billy as he tightened the strap on the Brahmin. The group seemed to lower their shoulders as one, each one knowing the importance of medical supplies. Since the attack, there are still multiple wounded without decent medical care; Doc Church was just overwhelmed. The Doc had specifically asked for Med-X, Stimpacks, and surgical equipment of any kind, the caravans would not arrive soon enough to treat the people. They needed the supplies now.

As the group began to trudge up the hill to Megaton, a light bulb went off in Lucie's head.

"Wait!" she shouted, startling the entire group, "We can get supplies from the Vault."

Marc scratched his head, "But wasn't it destroyed by an explosion?" he asked as confused as Maggie and Billy; each having heard the fate of Vault 101.

"Yes, but it was just the lower levels." She explained, trying to control her breath. Billy stepped forward, handing the reins to Maggie. "So you're saying the upper levels were untouched?" he asked, trying not to get his hopes up. Lucie nodded her head so fast seemed like it would pop off.

"The Infirmary is on the upper levels." She said with the biggest grin of all.

Off in the distance, a good two hours away, a patrol of Talon Company mercs were hiking towards Vault 101. The base had been notified by an unknown source that the vault had been attacked with no survivors, but the tech might have survived. The mercs didn't even wait to wonder who the anonymous tip came from and immediately sent four men to investigate it. They had been given simple orders; recover any usable supplies, post a guard, and kill anyone in their way.

**Well its short but I wanted yall to know I'm still writing the story…not out yet.**


	7. Home Sweet Home:Part 2

**Hey yall I'm back, the part 2 of Home Sweet Home, enjoy.**

July 10, 2294 Vault 101

The long tunnel flared with a red haze as another flare was tossed down the tunnel. It bounced among the rocks before settling against the skeleton of someone who had perished trying to enter the vault. He did not succeed.

Marc shook his head in pity; the man had only wanted safety and only found death as the radiation slowly killed him. He stepped over the body, grimacing as his boot nudged it; making it catch at his cargo pants. Marc yelped, his voice echoing down the tunnel.

"Marc…What's wrong son?" Billy asked from the cave entrance, "You alright?"

Breathing heavily as he adjusted the straps of his pack, "I'm fine Billy!" he yelled back, "Come on in."

Light poured from the outside as Billy led Lucie and Maggie down the tunnel, his flashlight illuminating the rocky pathway. Maggie gasped at the skeleton as they regrouped with Marc, her mouth covered by her mouth in shock.

"Is…that a-"

"Yes, Maggie." Billy quickly said, turning her away from the body. He turned his eyes to Marc, an instant signal to continue down the tunnel. Marc nodded, taking an old penlight from his thigh pocket, flicking on the light as he stepped over another large rock. Lucie nervously checked his pistol, sliding the magazine in and out of the 10mm; making sure the clip was loaded.

"Hey, Lucie; you okay?" he asked, sliding closer to them as they walked.

She nodded, swallowing nervously still. "Well, not really." She said, "I'm afraid of what we're going to find." She said as she fiddled with an old cross on her neck.

"What do you mean?" Marc asked, his voice rougher than he intended, as he stepped in front of her, blocking her from the path. Marc's instincts were flaring, if there was any danger; he had better know about it.

Lucie fiddled with her necklace even more now, the anxiety becoming more apparent. She turned her head away from Marc, tears beginning to stream down her face as she began to quietly cry.

Marc was stunned, this girl who had seemed invincible, was now crying of all things. His inexperience showed as he awkwardly stood in front of her, hand reaching back to scratch his head.

"Um, Lucie…?" Marc nervously asked. When she didn't face him or even show signs of hearing him, Marc looked to Billy and Maggie. They were both standing only ten feet away, so they knew what was happening, reason still unknown.

Billy was helpless, all he did was shrug and give him a "good luck" pat as he strode past them; continuing down the tunnel. Maggie came to the rescue though, using hand signals she explained what to do; and with a good'ole thumbs up, jogged to keep up with her dad.

Lucie was in an old memory, the day she and her mother had first talked about life outside; how it was unforgiving and unmerciful and that there weren't any people who would help a person in need and no one to call family.

"_The Wastes are a harsh land. No one is there to watch your back" _her mother's voice echoed in her mind. _"No one will care about you out there…stay where it's safe."_

She didn't want to believe it, but in her time in the Wastes all she had experienced was death and sorrow. Lucie was racked by another fit of tears as she thought of all the friends that had died in the steel tomb. Her knees buckled, the grief too much, only to be caught by a pair of strong arms; pulling her in close. Lucie was shocked, this was different than any hug she had ever had. Her heart began to beat faster and faster, the feeling of butterflies rumbling in her stomach.

Marc looked into Lucie's eyes, steel-blue locking with dark green, as he pulled her closer to his chest. He had done what Maggie had signaled and now he never wanted to let go; to always be able to hold her close. Lucie smiled as Marc wiped his thumb across her face, brushing any tears remaining away, feeling his heart beat faster and faster.

Marc felt a strange presence come over him as he bent his head, face tilting with hers as their lips just touched-

"Marc! Lucie!" Billy shouted from within the Vault entrance, "Hurry up already, place is giving me the creeps."

Marc froze, pushing away from Lucie, face burning. He stood there, staring at everything but Lucie; trying to explain to himself why he did that. _"What was I thinking?"_

Lucie smiled at Marc, all discomfort gone in the wake of the teen's embarrassment. "Marc, it's ok." She said reaching down to take his hand, "Let's find the medical supplies." Smiling as his fingers intermixed with Lucie's; Marc only nodded and followed the green-eyed girl through the Vault entrance.

Only to make it five feet into the vault, because lying in their way; burnt to a crisp was Amata Almodovar.

Lucie fell to the ground; all strength had left her as she stared at the body of her mother. The only identifying mark was the Pip-Boy on her wrist and the still glittering chain around her neck. It was an old golden locket which Lucie remembered her mother never taking off; she had said it was the only thing left of him.

"_Guess I'll never know who 'he' is…"_

Tears once again fell down her face as Lucie leaned forward, pulling the necklace from her mother's neck. As she did so however, the action caused the body to shift; crumbling into a fine pile of ash, erasing all traces of Overseer Amata Almodovar from the world. Lucie stayed kneeling beside her mother for an unknown amount of time as the others spread out, securing the entrance area. _"You're wrong mother, some people do care."_

Marc knelt beside another body; at least he thought it was a body. It was wearing the same armor as the Brotherhood of Steel, Marc had only seen it once but it stuck. It had reminded him of glorious knights of the Pre-War holo-movies that his mother had shown him, but this armor was not like the knights he knew. After scraping away some of the ash from the chest plate, he noticed the faded streaks of blood-red paint; crisscrossing across the armor like lightening in the sky.

Billy walked up behind him; .44 now replaced by an old 12 gauge Saiga. He knelt beside the body and Marc, hands frantically brushing away the remaining ash. As he brushed off the remainder, the red streaks now stood out brightly against the black.

"Oh shit." Billy breathed, pulse quickening as he realized what this was.

"Billy?" asked Marc, still in the dark about the armor, yet it seemed to scare the living hell out of the older man.

"The Outcasts."

The commander of the Talons snapped his R91 assault rifle up as he walked round the corner. Flanking him were eight other talons, most were equipped the same as him, but the Talon on point held the heavy hitter. The man was garbed in an old grey cloak which protected him from the flamer he carried and helped terrify his victims before they became walking torches.

"Hey, boss, found something." Said Flamer as he circled the Brahmin that was laden with scrap and supplies, nervously chewing cud in its two separate mouths; the animal shied away from the Talons as they secured the area, looking for the owners.

"Well well, looks like we found us some thieves trying to take our rightful loot." Sneered the commander as he inspected the Brahmin. "Marks, Trip, and Rook, set up a perimeter. No one gets in or out."

The selected men nodded, shrugging off their respective packs and set off to find cover. The rest of the Talons stood around their commander, waiting for the inevitable order to go in.

"Boys…let's get huntin'."

Marc turned the corner, steadily making his way to the infirmary marked on his new Pip-Boy. He had received it from Lucie after they had to take a detour from the main route. The blast had collapsed more of the vault hallways than Lucie had anticipated; forcing them to constantly change course. Luckily for them, one detour took them through the maintenance wing, which is where everyone, excluding Lucie, received their own Pip-Boy.

She had said that in the past they had belonged to residents that had perished in an explosion during the Vault Schism. Marc shivered as he thought of who had worn it before him and hoped that his luck was better than the last owners.

"Ok…hang a right here." Said Lucie as she directed the group through the hallways, they all seemed the same to Marc, but Lucie was reading them like the back of her hand. They had been searching the Vault 101 atrium level for the past hour; so far the excursion had yielded much in the way of benefits. Currently Billy and Maggie compiled the loot, four 10mm pistols, an antique scoped hunting rifle; which Billy had instantly laid claim to, which had angered Marc and made Lucie exploded with laughter at the faces he made. Yet it paid off, in one of the rooms they had searched they had found something which made Marc's eyes brighten with excitement.

An ancient Shoto short sword, dating back to Pre-War times, was found wrapped in cloth and stowed in a locked footlocker. Lucie had quickly picked the lock, much to Marc's amazement, and discovered his new favorite toy; which was now strapped to his back. Lucie had been shocked and on the inside very happy, when Marc had literally picked Lucie up and spun her around, shouting for joy.

Lucie smiled as she recalled the last few minutes, Marc had said he had always wanted one because to him, his combat knife didn't have enough reach. _"Well, looks like he got his wish"_

They walked in relative silence, the lights on Marc's rifle and their Pip-Boys surrounding them. Their boots and clothes were covered in dust, whether it was from the explosion or the remains of the residents, Marc didn't know and he very much didn't need to know.

"Okay…here." Lucie said suddenly as Marc scrambled to a stop. "This is the infirmary, behind…this door. Damn it all to Hell!" she shouted at the same time her fist slammed onto the door. She had totally forgotten, in the event of an emergency, all essential areas of the vault would be locked down until the Overseer lifted the lockdown.

"I'm sorry, it's all for nothin." Lucie sighed as she turned to face Marc; only to face open air. She whirled around, finding him peering through the glass window.

"Marc, whatcha thinking?"

She was answered by an explosion of sound, deafening in the cramped corridors of the Vault. Marc had fired directly into the glass, succeeding in only cracking the tempered glass and wasting ammo.

"Marc…stop. Its tempered glass, meant to withstand all kinds of assault." She explained only to be surprised again when he rammed the stock of his Infiltrator into the cracked glass; resulting in an explosive crash as part of the glass caved in.

BANG!

BANG!

CRUNCH!

The glass finally broke free of its supports, falling into the room. Marc stood panting; sweat glistening on his brow from the exertion.

"So…shopping spree?"

They had collected all the supplies that Doc Church had asked for, including some things that Lucie knew he didn't have. Lucie was currently carrying the bag full of medical drugs while the rest of the group collected their own packs; preparing for the hike back to Megaton.

"Woo wee, we're goin to be heroes, I reckon." Billy said pumping his fist in the air; causing the three teens to explode with laughter at his childishness.

"Hey screw yall. I can be just like you youngsters."

The teens just continued to laugh as the exited the atrium and made their way to the entrance; as they reached the area however they were greeted by something very unexpected…Talons. They dived to the ground, dodging the incoming gunfire, and scrambling for existing cover.

"Ha ha, we got'em now boys!" shouted a Talon as he loosed another volley of rounds into the corridor the wastelanders had fled behind. "Kill'em!"

Marc slammed into the bulkhead, ditching his pack and sliding in front of Maggie, who was currently clutching herself in a ball. He blind-fired around the doorway, praying he'd hit something; grinning when he heard a shout of pain.

"Billy, it's the goddamn Talons!"

"No shit, Sherlock! What gave it away, the armor or the bad attitudes?"

Billy was currently crouched beside Lucie who was sliding a new magazine into her M99 SMG; she was now ready to vent some anger onto the Talons. Marc fired again into the hallway, causing the Talons to crouch, giving Lucie the chance to scramble to the opposite side of the doorway. She fired into the doorway, thankful she had some training with weaponry when she became a security guard after the G.O.A.T.

The resultant was an explosive spray of arterial blood, coming from the neck of an idiotic Talon wielding an old Ak-47. The man had tried to switch positions just as Lucie had fired, bring the Talons numbers down. Lucie whooped, answered with a hail of bullets from the Talons; who seemed to have intensified in their need to kill.

Marc and Lucie took turns firing around the corner, trying to pin the Talons down. Maggie was no help, still being curled in a ball and Billy was crouched in front of her; shielding the girl from the deadly fire.

"Billy, we need a plan!" shouted Marc as he fired another burst into the entrance way, rifle clacking empty. "Reload."

Lucie swung around, M99 spouting fire, as she sprayed the Talons position; having to jump back when a Talon fired back at her. She gasped as a round sliced through her sleeve, grazing her left bicep. The leather armor she wore protected her from some rounds, but the sleeves were just thin cloth.

She fell back, clutching her arm as Marc shouted in anger; firing at the Talons with renewed vigor. He succeeded in bringing another down, which resulted in a flash of fire as he struck the tank of the flamer-wielding Talon. The man howled in pain, rising up from his crouched position as the flames engulfed him; his arms flailing around as he attempted to put out the fire. Not one of his 'friends' bothered to put a bullet in him; he just sagged to the ground, lighting the entire room.

Gagging as he turned from the dreadful sight, he saw Billy and Maggie getting up; only for Billy to take three rounds to the thigh, shoulder, and lower abdomen. Time seemed to slow, Maggie attempting to catch her father, Lucie crying out in shock, and Marc shouting in desperation. He dropped to the ground, Saiga slipping from his grasp and crying out in pain.

"Cover me!"

Marc sprung from his position, making it to Billy and sliding his arms under the older man's shoulders; pulling him into cover. He slid Billy behind the group's pack, shielding him from the gunfire. Billy groaned in pain, now unconscious from the shock, as Marc laid him gently to the floor.

"Lucie is there any other way out?" asked Marc as he snatched up the Saiga from the floor, pumping it and racking a shell into the receiver. He leaned around the corner, blasting another Talon in the chest, blood coating the wall behind him as his chest caved in from the slug that caught him in the center of his chest.

Before Lucie could reply, there came a shout from the Talons. "Pulse out!"

Marc had no idea what the Talon meant, but he scrambled behind cover as a spherical object flew through the doorway. It landed between Maggie and Marc, who both dove out of the way; too late.

Intense pain flared all along his spinal cord as electricity coursed through his body. Marc dropped to the ground, clutching his sides in pain. His vision blurred as the Talons entered the room, slamming the stock of an assault rifle into Billy's head as he attempted to rise. In his peripherals, Marc saw Lucie limply fall to the ground, clothes still smoldering from the blast and Maggie weakly attempting to crawl away.

"Ha ha ha, you have to love pulse 'nades don't you boys?" said a tall Talon wielding an R91 assault rifle. The man sneered at Marc; teeth stained a sickly brown from years of irradiated tobacco. "Well now sunny, what do we do about you?" he said as he raised his rifle; placing the barrel next to Marc's neck, burning his skin from the heat.

Marc clenched his teeth in pain, refusing to cry out in pain. The Talon smiled again, content with torturing the teen while his men secure the girls.

"Hey boss, can we keep the bitches?" asked one of the men as he lifted Maggie onto his shoulder.

"Hell yes!" the commander replied, "We need all the relief after this cluster-fuck."

The Talon reached over to receive a high-five from his partner; only to have his face painted in blood. The man froze, face quivering as the blood and brains dripped down his face; there was no sound only the spray of blood.

"BOSS!" he yelled dropping Maggie as he brought up his N99…too slow. There was a blur of motion and a spray of blood as the Talon's jugular was sliced; coating the commander in a shower of gore.

"Holy shit! Where are you!" he screamed, spittle flying from his lips as he opened fire; gunning down the shadows. His mistake was turning his back to an angry teenage boy; who rose from his knees, drawing his new toy from its sheath.

The last thing the Talon felt was the Shoto being thrust into his chest cavity from behind. Marc expertly angled the blade between the protective ceramic plates that made up the man's armor; slicing deep into the vital organs. The Commander gargled, blood overflowing onto his chest, and with a twist of the hips; Marc ripped his sword free.

The now deceased Talon collapsed in heap, like a puppet without a puppeteer. Marc shifted his stance, clasping the sword in two hands as the air shimmered in front of him. His breathing was ragged as he awaited the coming attack…only to be shocked by the revelation.

A knight, just like in the holos, stood before him; armor drenched in blood. The knight stood tall, his suit hissing as the hydraulics initiating as the man pulled off his helm. Brown hair, speckled with grey, was tied back in an old headwrap; steel-blue eyes locked with Marc's own. The man looked like an older version of Marc; the smile he gave a split-second later confirmed that.

"Hello son."

**Yeehaw! The chapter is done. Hoped you enjoyed the violence and I hoped I answered any questions about Lucie's ability to fight. I know some were confused, but hopefully not anymore. Some chemisty is happening, not too good at writing that stuff; so advice is welcome. Looks like LW/Dad is back, will Marc find out who he really is? Well…READ and review and I might tell ya. FalloutRanger out.**


	8. The Brotherhood

**Hey yall I'm back with yet another chapter! I know there were a few questions about Marc's dad being the Elder but I'll answer the questions in due time. Also this is the edited version, TX17 pointed out an important fact so thanks again man.**

July 10, 2294 Megaton

Night had fallen by the time the group had trudged through the rusted gate of Megaton. They were immediately rushed to Doc Church's clinic to treat their wounds. Strings of lights lit the town center and cast eerie shadows across the compound. An hour later, Marc sat on an old stool by the Brass Lantern; sipping on some purified water from the fridge behind him. To Marc's right, set up around the old Brahmin pen, were the Brotherhood of Steel; Lyons Pride to be exact. Marc had heard about them on Galaxy News Radio over the years, stories of blasting Super Mutants, Enclave, and all-around bad guys.

There were eight milling around, quietly talking to each other. Their armor shimmered in the colored lights which adorned the various walkways, casting shadows along the earth. Marc sighed; the revelation of the past few hours had taken a toll on his body and mind.

"_My dad…is THE Lone Wanderer. This makes no sense, especially about who my MOM is."_

After they had made it to Megaton, Moira had rushed towards Marc; pulling him to her chest, never noticing the man carrying Billy into the city or the rest of the group. Kyle…Elder Walsh, had called him son; that makes no sense. Moira had told him that his dad had died fighting Super Mutants in D.C. not that he was in fact the leader of the Brotherhood.

Then she dropped the major bombshell, she wasn't his mother. The blonde woman; Sarah Lyons, if he remembers right, Moira had explained to him for the longest time. Neither Sarah nor Kyle wanted Marc to grow up fighting Mutants; they wanted him to be able to live his own life. So they sent Marc as an infant to live in Megaton, to be raised as Moira's own son, and to never have to fight everyday of his life.

"Ha ha funny, now I know why I don't look anything like Moira." He chuckled recalling how his hair was a sandy brown whilst hers was a dark red. Then again, it makes sense; all the looks he had gotten from the Megaton citizens and the reason Simms, Gob, and Billy all looked out for him so much. "They must of all known." He sighed into his hands, staring into the dirt.

"Yes, Moira that's right." Kyle said as the fiery woman berated him again. "I intended to take him with us."

"What? You think you can come here after seventeen years and just take him?" Moira screamed, slamming her fist on the countertop; knocking over a jar of pencils, spilling them across the floor, but Moira ignored them.

Marc sighed, this wasn't getting any easier. After making the discovery in the Vault regarding Talon and most importantly, the Outcasts; Kyle and Sarah made an important decision as parents. They were bringing their son home.

"Moira, we understand that you've come to love him as your own." Interjected Sarah, trying to be the mediator, ironic, sense she was covered in head to toe in T-45d power armor. Kyle himself was also suited up the same, only with 101 painted on his shoulder plate. "But it's for the best that we take him, now more than ever."

"Shut up, Lyons! You claim that he's your son, but you avoid him like a Super Mutant Behemoth. You have no right to speak here!"

Sarah staggered back, shocked by the fury in Moira's voice and stance. The normally calm, sensible woman was now replaced by a very furious mother; scaring the battle-hardened soldier.

"The Outcasts have showed up, they destroyed Vault 101 and we have had reports of Outcast soldiers wandering the areas around Raven Rock and the ruins of Adams Air Force Base" Kyle explained quickly trying to talk sense into Moira before she started another shouting match.

"So it's vital that we take Marc with us and anyone who is willing to join us." Sarah finished, standing beside Kyle as Moira pondered all the information. She began to pace the store, passing the shelves and boxes which littered the cluttered building.

"No, it's not right. I raised him since you brought him to me and now that he's found someone he cares about you want to take him?" said Moira pointing her finger at the armored couple, causing both to hang their heads in shame. She walked from around the counter, straight up to Kyle, and grabbed the metal handle on his breastplate.

"This is the only way I'll allow this, one Lucie is allowed to go with Marc to the Citadel. Two, Marc can make his own choice as to if he wants to join the Brotherhood or settle down. Finally three, you never treat him like your father treated you. Understand?" Moira asked after a long period of silence, her face shining with tears.

"You can't make those demands to-"Sarah started only to be silenced by a swift glare from Kyle, his own eyes beginning to shimmer with tears of shame. She quickly backed down, taking her place behind Kyle, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"Then take him." Moira said, throwing her hands up. "There's nothing I can really do is there. He's safer with you and will have better training won't he?" she said, walking into the storage room; putting together Marc's supplies and personal items.

Kyle simply nodded his head, "Sarah, gather Pride. Tell Paladin Maxson to take Dusk with him to scout the area ahead, we'll be moving out soon."

Sarah nodded, straightening to salute, and spun on her heel; exiting the store. Kyle smiled, remembering the first time he had met that blonde-fury; stumbling through the ruins of D.C. fighting raiders, mutants, and the random packs of feral dogs. He chuckled, whenever he lived in Vault 101 he had always wanted a dog; after that, Hell no.

"Moira…I know you love him." He said, fiddling with a fission battery on the countertop and trying not to avoid getting shocked. "It's just that, as my son, I have to keep him safe. Ya know?"

"I understand that Kyle, I really do." Moira said as she entered the room carrying a duffle bag; full of Marc's things. "But it's not right to try and run his life for him; after you left him with me. What right do you have to just get him now?"

"Moira-"

"No, Kyle let me speak." Moira said dropping the bag on the floor; approaching Kyle. "This is his life, remember that. You left him, like your dad did to you; so do not attempt to change his life. Understand?"

Kyle was stunned, only able to meekly nod his head and then hang it in shame. He had tried to protect Marc as much as he could; to keep him from a life of fighting the Super Mutants and Raiders. The most he had hoped for was that Marc could grow old and have a good life; now with the attack on the Vault and evidence of the Outcast's treachery, it would be more difficult, much more.

Marc was surrounded by all of his close friends as the group prepared to move out of the city. Maggie had been latched onto Marc's arm for the past fifteen minutes, much to the displeasure of another teen, and Billy was able to make it to the Brass Lantern to say goodbye. His body was wrapped in bandages and, for the time being, confined to an old wheelchair Doc Church had lying around. Gob and Nova had stopped by for a few minutes to say goodbye and give Marc a cloth-wrapped object.

"Well, come on boyo. Open the damn thing." Gob insisted, poking Marc in the ribs.

He stood there, weighing the object in his hands before unwrapping it. Inside sat the most beautiful pistol Marc had ever seen; jet-black, except for the chrome-plated grip, with an ancient Celtic cross etched into the left side of the grip. On the opposite, the verse _"Romans 6:23-For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life."_ was inscribed on the right side.

Marc was stunned, the pistol must have been worth a fortune, no, priceless. The workmanship unequaled to anything Marc had ever seen.

"Oh, these go with it, hope you like it." Nova said, handing over two spare magazines, already loaded with .45 caliber rounds. Gob opened his mouth, only to be smothered by Marc as he wrapped him in a hug which rivaled any other.

"Thank you, Gob, Nova." Marc said, unable to contain his excitement. "There's no way I can ever repay you."

"Hmm, well- Gob started only to be quieted by an elbow from Nova; who smiled saying "Think of it as an extremely early Christmas present, ok?"

Marc simply nodded, sliding his new pistol into his thigh holster, replacing the weathered Glock; which was then holstered on the inside of Marc's duster. The crowd soon began to disperse, each citizen wishing Marc and Lucie the best of luck; giving advice and small tokens of appreciation to the teenagers. From Walter, Lucie received a semi-new camelpack for her water source and from Doc Church; they were each given a small packet of medical supplies.

"Just don't come crying to me when ya run out." He gruffly said before stepping back inside his clinic. Simms stood away from the rest of the group, only approaching when the crowd had left.

"Here Marc, Lucie; this is for ya'll." Simms said as he pressed an old walkie-talkie into each of their hands. "They only have about a twenty-five mile range, but if you're ever in trouble, just give me a call. I'll come get you." Simms said, slapping Marc on the back before turning away and walking back to his house; ignoring the shouts that followed. Marc looked to Lucie who only shrugged, pulling her water-pack and duffle bag onto her shoulders and walked towards the group. Marc looked up towards the Craterside Supply, catching a glimpse of Moira's face as she waved goodbye. Silently he waved back, promising one thing to her…_I will return._

The gates of Megaton hummed once again. This time the weathered group would journey to the Citadel, to assess the new developments and plan ahead. The sun shone through the clouds, shining brightly in the faces of the adventurers as they started off, yet only one looked back.

Marc turned towards Megaton, the only home he had ever known. He sighed inward, feeling the weight of the past few weeks weigh down on him; his side aching as he remembered the first day he met Lucie. Speaking of which, he sensed Lucie walk close behind him.

"Marc, you alright? We'll be back." Lucie said placing her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Marc reached up, placing his hand over hers; interloping his finders with hers.

"Will we? I don't know what to think know, I have a father now and my mother is a Brotherhood soldier that has barely spoken to me. How am I supposed to feel?" Marc snapped, spitting on the ground, his saliva quickly absorbed by the dirt.

Lucie sighed, holding onto Marc's hand tightly as she brushed her hand across his face. Marc turned away, trying to hide his tears; only to be pulled back and smothered by Lucie. He was stunned, her lips pressed against his; he did the only thing he could think of, kissed back. Their lips moved together, softly tasting one another as they pressed closer; they broke apart, breathing heavily as they held each other tight.

Marc smiled, touching his forehead against Lucie's, the taste of her lips lingering. "It's alright to be scared, I'm scared too." She said kissing Marc's cheek, her hands holding his head. "But you have me and now your dad; it'll be okay."

Marc nodded, smiling as he pulled Lucie close; wrapping his arms tight around her. This was comical because of the heavy packs on their backs, but they did their best. As they separated Marc seized Lucie's hand and held tightly as they joined their companions.

Unknown to them, a man watched; his helmet shielding his angry glare from the world. His fists trembled with anger as he watched the Vault girl and Waster run to the middle of the group. _"He's not good enough…just a damn Waster."_

"Maxson!"

Paladin Maxson jumped inside of his armor, startled by Elder Walsh as he approached the rocky outcrop that Maxson was perched on.

"What's the situation, Paladin?"

Maxson knelt, difficult in power armor, and slipped his helm off; wiping the sweat from his face. "Elder, clear for the next few miles; I was unable to scout farther." He said, breathing in fresh, un-recycled air.

Elder Walsh nodded, shouldering his Gauss rifle. "Alright, good work. Get your bucket on and let's move out." He said plodding through the semi-dry mud, the servos hissing with the movement.

"And stop staring at my son, Paladin, that's an order."

Maxson huffed, angrily pulling his helmet on as he jumped from the outcrop and joined the group's formation.

"Your will…_Elder_"

**Whew, been a while since I've updated. Sorry about that, had a pretty good break, how about yall? Well I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, if ya did, REVIEW, and if ya didn't well…you make me sad. Oh and with the earlier review bout Squire Maxson; he as you noticed included in the story. What I'm going off of is that he was too young to lead the Brotherhood and so LW took control.**

**Now he's a Paladin and getting experience, but seems like he's angry about something…**

**But seriously Review, it's a good, wholesome thing; think of it as an early Christmas present. I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed and helped me answer the questions that I have left unanswered. Again if you have questions or suggestions, message me and I'll get to it ASAP.**


	9. Revelations

** Hey yall sorry bout the rushed chapter, I was really tired after my wrestling practice. Promise I'll right all the messes I made last time. Here she goes…**

July 10, 2294 Wasteland

The sun beat down on the Lyon's Pride plus two as they hiked across the open wastes. Knight Captains Gallows and Dusk were both scouting ahead of the group, the sun's rays reflecting off their armor. Sentinel Lyons and Paladin Maxson walked point as the group neared the ruined Super-Duper Mart that was long ago filled with un-irradiated food, people not killing one another for the last can of beans.

Elder Walsh sighed, remembering the time when he stumbled into the old grocery store. He had been fleeing from a group of radscorpions; only to run into a large group of Raiders. Now at the time, Kyle thought they were regular people, just trying to survive, but he was very wrong. Somehow, he had survived; killing every last one of the blood-thirsty Raiders and beginning to discover who he was. Kyle had become a survivor, The Lone Wanderer, able to do things that another man would not. He sighed again, stepping over an old tree which had fallen from its base years ago.

Keying the mike inside his helm, Kyle signaled Dusk and Gallows, "Alright, come on back. Meet up on the back of the store"

Two green lights flashed on his HUD, notifying him of their acknowledgement. In the distance, two figures could be seen jogging towards the store; one glancing around the corner before signaling the rest of the group.

Sweat dripped into his eyes as Marc rushed forward with Lucie, vaulting over the same tree his father had before him. His breathing was labored by the time he and Lucie reached the store; the Pride already taking positions to flank the building.

"Uh…what's the plan?" he asked, swallowing as he regained his breath. "Wasn't this place cleared years ago?"

"It was, Marc, but I haven't been back since that day. Someone is probably using it again; you know intact homes are hard to find. Dusk, report!" barked Elder Walsh, kneeling next to Dusk.

"Elder, the store is intact like it was before; no changes there, so your idea about wastelanders reusing it may be correct. In that case, I would advise splitting the team; one goes left and the other right."

"Hmm, makes sense. Alright, Maxson, stick with Marc and Lucie. I want you to wait in the parking lot outside until I signal you. Clear?"

"Yes, sir…"

"Alright, Sarah, you take Vargas, Gallows, and Kodiak. Go left; I'll take Glade and Colvin at the right. Dusk, scale the ladder to the right; I want you posted on the roof in case of any stranglers. We clear?"

The Pride showed their readiness by simply nodding and shouldering their rifles.

"Let's get to it."

The Pride moved to their respective positions, followed closely by Marc, Lucie and Maxson. The group swung around the corner, weapons at the ready, only to be greeted by emptiness. The whole outside was deserted, except for four skeletons nailed to the roof pillars. Lucie visibly paled at the sight; she may have been in a few fights, but she could still be shocked and shocked she was.

She looked to Marc, who could only shrug. Lucie sighed, pulling her pistol free and followed Marc and Maxson as they continued forward. The wind swept past them scattering tattered bits of paper and producing little swirls of dust, completing the image of complete isolation.

"Elder, its all clear from here…no sign of hostiles." Came Dusk's voice from the roof, covering them with her DKS-501 sniper rifle; Marc had been blown away when he had seen the rifle. All his life he had seen them in the old Army manuals that Moira had laying around, but Dusk's rifle was the first he had seen in person.

"Roger that. Pride, form a defensive-LOOK OUT!"

Marc jumped when the doors to the Super-Duper Mart were thrown open, ripped right off their hinges. What came spilling out could only be described as an old tale Wastelanders used to scare their children.

Ghouls…Feral Ghouls, came pouring out of the store from both entrances; their tattered clothing barely covering their more sensitive areas, some not even that. Their eyes were an odd milky white, like Brahmin milk left outside for too long, searching for the food in front of them. The lead ghoul, wearing a tattered blue jumpsuit, raced forward; howling for blood.

"OPEN FIRE!" barked Sentinel Lyons as the ghouls, now more than a dozen, came rushing forward. Red streams, joined by the harsh stutter of Marc and Lucie's Pre-War weapons, ripped into the ghouls. Multiple fell, blood and gore spraying their fellow monsters in a red paint; adding to the disgusting visual. Yet, this was not enough.

The Pride, already being too close to the doors, was overwhelmed by the ghouls. Marc's Infiltrator swung left to right, sending deadly lead into the decaying bodies. He managed to cut down two and reduce another to a crawling mess before being tackled to the ground by the remains of what was once a young woman. Tattered strands of blonde hair hung in her face as she forced her face closer to Marc's; her breath reeking with God knows what.

Marc's arms strained to keep the ghoul away from him, spittle splattering his face as it continued to fight him. Drawing his arm back, he slammed his fist into the ghoul's face; wincing at the squishing sound the impact made. The force sent the woman flailing onto the ground; allowing Marc to scramble up and draw his pistol.

The ghoul howled once more, her jaw stretching an impossible length, and charged Marc. The .45 bucked against his hand as Marc fired a round into the charging ghoul's head, drilling a fine hole into the front, but destroying the back as the bullet exited the decayed cranium.

"Agh! Watch it, newbie!" shouted Maxson, who was sprayed by the gore from Marc's kill.

Marc ignored him, turning to face the rest of the horde. The Pride was making short work of the ghouls, blasting them left and right with their energy weapons and Colvin's and Dusk's sniper rifles. Marc relished the recoil of the .45 as it sang, sending round after round into decaying flesh; taking down two more of the irradiated monsters.

He could see out of the corner of his eye, Sarah and Lucie, who were back to back against the onslaught. The Brotherhood soldier made quick work of any ghoul which made it past the Vault Girl's MP9, firing in short bursts. Soon, they had a small pile of bodies surrounding them; their weapons smoking as the ghouls finally ran out of bodies.

Marc held his .45 tightly, finger just off the trigger, as he stepped over body after body; the ground was covered in gore. He looked to his father, whose armor was drenched in dark almost black blood.

"Burial detail."

Marc stood still as the Pride moved into the mass of bodies, flipping them and putting a burst of red-hot energy into them if they twitched. Lucie's face was bright red, her chest heaving from the adrenaline rush. Her leather armor, a present from Moira, was torn in several places; long gashes from the nails of a determined Feral. Sarah didn't even bother stepping over the corpses, her power armored boots making quick work of the rotted bodies; crushing them completely.

Smelling the expelled gases from the bodies made Marc gag, wishing he had one of the filtration helmets like the Brotherhood. The same could be said about Lucie, except she went all the way; racing towards the dumpster and retching up what was left of her breakfast.

"Alright, good job everyone. Colvin, Kodiak, and Maxson, you're on body burning. Take the remains to the other side of the lot and burn them. Dusk, stay where you are; Colvin relieve her in three hours, regular rotations people." Instructed Kyle, causing the disciplined soldiers to snap straight, Kyle then turned to the rest of the squad.

"Everyone else, we got the store."

An hour later, the bodies of the ghouls were burning; the stench overwhelming, forcing the Brotherhood soldiers into the Super-Duper Mart. Inside, the store was an absolute mess. Even after the Marc and the others cleared it of the remaining ghouls, the lingering smell of corpses stayed behind. Thankfully, Kyle allowed a fire to be built and it was currently roaring in the center of the store; which is where everyone was now seated around.

Marc winced as Kodiak sunk the Med-X syringe into his bicep. The gash along his arm was a present from a certain ghoul which Marc had thought dead. It had rolled over, grabbing him by the arm and slashed him across his arm. Sarah had been close by, so she fired a burst into the ghoul; reducing it to ashes.

"You know, won't the smoke attract unwanted attention?" asked Lucie, poking at the fire with a stick. Marc had been thinking the same thing, but thought that since his parents were unconcerned then he shouldn't either.

"Normally yes, but since we burned the bodies, the predators will stay away." Kyle explained as he wiped down his Gauss rifle, checking for any damage to the rare weapon. "Only trouble we might have is raiders and that is the reason we have sentries posted. Which, Marc and Kodiak, you're up."

"Yes, Elder." Kodiak said as he placed the now empty syringe back into his medical pack. The hydraulics in his armor hissed severely as he stood. "Elder, I'm going to need to repair my hydraulic system when we get to the Citadel; my movement is going to be significantly screwed up for awhile."

"Roger that, Kodiak; for now I just want you to do the best you can, we need you in the fight. Now get to it." Replied Kyle as he added another shelf to the fire. Kodiak nodded, pulling Marc up by his good arm.

"Uh…dad, could we talk when I'm done?" Marc asked, his face burning despite the fire. He was still not used to having a father and it showed; he was really unsure how to act around him. Was he a son or another soldier to order around?

"Course we can, I'd like nothing more." Kyle said, smiling up at Marc.

Smiling also, Marc slung his rifle across his back and followed Kodiak outside. When they were out of sight, Kyle dropped the charade. He collapsed on his back, the armor weighing him down. Sarah shook her head, laughing to herself as she bit into her power bar. Lucie jumped from the crashing noise the armor made when it hit the ground, knocking her out of her doze.

She looked around, scanning the faces for Marc; sighing when she didn't see him.

"He's on sentry duty right now, but he'll be done soon. No worries." Sarah said, taking another bite from her bar, finishing it and reaching for another.

"What? Oh, um yeah I'm sorry. I didn't know I was that easy to read." Lucie said, burying her face into her knees, face burning in embarrassment. Kyle and Sarah both smiled, locking eyes together, Kyle slightly nodding towards Sarah.

"Haha, its ok, Lucie; I've been there before." Said Sarah as she stood, pulling her bedroll from her pack. "I'm going to turn in for the night. Wake me when it's my turn, Kyle. Goodnight Lucie."

"Sounds good, night, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Sentinel Lyons."

The fire crackled as the Kyle and Lucie sat, both feeling the tension building. The soft snores of the rest of the Pride helped to break the silence, but not by much. Finally, the both spoke.

"So you're…" they both stopped, realizing they spoke at the same time.

"You first." Offered Kyle, gesturing towards Lucie, who tried to speak before Kyle cut her off. "Ask away."

"Alright, well to start off with; are you really from the Vault?"

"Ha, yes I am." Kyle laughed, remembering the first few times someone asked him that same question. "You wouldn't be able to tell underneath all this grime, but once, a long time ago; I was a Vault 101 resident."

Lucie nodded, asking "If you don't mind me asking, did you know my mother? Amata was her name."

Kyle's grin fell almost immediately, past memories of the Vault flooding back. "Well, yes I did. She and I were best friends; she warned me of my father leaving and helped me escape. Though last I saw her, she didn't have a daughter." Kyle scratched the top of his head, fingernails brushing his hair flat. "So, I guess my question is who are you? Also, what do you mean by did I know her?"

The firewood popped as the flames rose higher, the heat warming the large room. Lucie stared into the flames, gently dancing across the wood. "My mother was Amata Almodovar; former Overseer of Vault 101. She died trying to protect me…I let her die." Lucie cried as the tears she had held back for so long came forth; spilling over her cheeks. The exhaustion and turmoil had finally taken its toll, forcing her to let go.

"What? She's dead?"

Lucie could only nod, burying her face into her sleeve, trying to wipe the tears away. "The dark figures, um Outcasts, shot her down in front of me. She told me to run, she had the Vault's self-destruct in her hand…I was so scared!" Lucie burst out into another fit of tears, her cries echoing softly on the building's walls.

Kyle did the only thing he could think of. He sat beside Lucie, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders. Lucie's hands instinctively pulled it tight, covering her completely.

"I'm sorry for your loss…Amata was…an amazing friend. I bet she was an even better mother."

Lucie nodded, sniffing as she wiped her nose. "She was. I just wish I could have done something…anything."

"Look, something I found out in the Wasteland is that things happen for a reason. Amata died saving you, her child. My father died to save me and I ended up helping bring fresh water to the Capital Wasteland. I can only imagine what you're going to do." Kyle said, patting her on the back softly, well, as softly as a power armored hand can do.

"But there is one thing I'm not sure of…Who is your father?" Kyle asked. The question had plagued his mind since he had met her, yes she had Amata's eyes, but her skin complexion was completely different. Amata was much tanner, being of Hispanic descent, but Lucie's skin was a much lighter shade.

"Oh, his name was Freddie, Freddie Gomez."

Kyle's eyes bulged out of his head. "What? Freddie the Freak, seriously?"

Lucie laughed softly, remembering how her mother had called him that when she was angry at him. "Haha, yeah. He was my dad, darn good one too." She snapped, regretting it instantly.

"Whoa now, didn't mean anything by it; just that I didn't think that would happen. Freddie seemed like he was always down in the dumps about something, was he in the attack?" Kyle asked, pressing for more information. The realization that Amata had found someone that made her happy made Kyle's heart leap. That is what he had always wanted for his friend.

"No, he was killed by a Radscorpion about three years back." Said Lucie, reaching up to play with the cross around her neck; it had been a gift from her father before he had died. It was a piece of wrought iron, handmade by Freddie on Lucie's sixteenth birthday. She had cherished it since the day it was given, becoming her good luck charm. "He was on a trading mission to a settlement to the north when the caravan was attacked by a pack of Radscorpions. No one survived."

The two of them sat talking for more than an hour, telling stories of the Vault and life in the Wasteland. Lucie was astounded to hear of the Citadel and the ruins of old D.C. while Kyle was busting a gut laughing at the antics Lucie and her friends pulled on old-man Stanley. The fire continued to burn, slowly dying down as the final embers were snuffed out from lack of wood. Eventually, Marc and Kodiak had returned from guard duty, Kodiak throwing himself down on his bedroll along with Marc who, still nursing his arm, sat beside Lucie. They all talked for another hour before the three of them couldn't keep their eyes open any longer, resulting with Kyle standing, stretching his back; popping it loudly in several places. Lucie grimaced at the sounds, always had she hated someone popping their joints. Marc had fallen asleep about fifteen minutes before, gently breathing in and out.

"Ah, remind me, never sit for that long in power armor. Not comfortable at all." Kyle groaned again as he bent over forward, resulting in another audible pop.

"Sure no problem. I hate that noise anyway." Replied Lucie, tucking the blanket under her body, shuffling closer to Marc for the warmth of two bodies.

Kyle laughed again, picking up his own bedroll before turning to join Sarah. He turned at the last second, remembering something.

"Oh, with Marc. I know y'all like each other, but my advice, go slow. Much more fun that way." Kyle said with a wink, before lying down beside Sarah, who had shed her armor and was sound asleep.

Lucie looked down at Marc, gently pulling his blanket farther up his chest. He shifted in his sleep, lips slowly moving as if he was talking to someone. Lucie smiled, gently laying her head on his shoulder; but before she fell asleep, she could have sworn she felt Marc's arm wrap around her waist, pulling her closer. Lucie smiled again, content with the world.

"_Yeah, go slow…I like that idea."_

**Well, hopefully that filled some gaps. Really sorry bout the hiatus I took, been real busy with practice, choir, girlfriend and all. I'm going to try and get some more chapters done during the break. So review please, that can be my Christmas present. Merry Christmas everyone, FalloutRanger out.**


	10. Battle for Galaxy News

**Hello everyone latest chapter as you can see. Hope yall enjoy.**

July 11, 2294 Wasteland

The group had woken up early that morning; packing their belongings and shuffling out of the door of the Super-Duper Mart. Dusk and Maxson, sniper and spotter, jogged ahead of the rest of the group to scout out the remainder of the journey. The sun shined brightly in the morning light, making Lucie and Mark have to cover their eyes, unable to block it completely.

"You know, the first chance I get I'm getting a pair of shades. This every morning is not good." Said Marc as he squinted in the sunlight; Lucie only laughed as she pulled an old red Pre-War baseball cap out of the side pocket of her satchel. She laughed as she pulled it on, pulling her ponytail through the opening in the back.

"Ah, not fair. Where you find that?" asked Marc, kicking an old tin can, bouncing it off the burned out husk of an oil truck. The truck had exploded years ago; multiple bullet holes dotted the burned metal. No one would ever know of the battle or who had participated.

"Haha, Billy gave it to me before we left. He said Maggie found it in the Vault Residential area when we were searching for supplies." Lucie explained as she fixed the cap the way she wanted. "Feels good to have something from home, don't ya think?"

"Yeah, I guess. I miss them already though, Billy, Lucas, Moira…hell even Doc Church." Sighed Marc as they climb up some stairs, leading up to a group of statues. The figures seemed to be wearing Pre-War combat armor, carrying weapons not seen by many anymore.

"Haha, I hope you're joking 'bout Doc Church, he's grumpy." Laughed Lucie as she stared up at the statues; forever frozen in time. "Wow, this is the Anchorage Memorial! I learned about this in Mr. Brotch's class in the Vault."

"What's Anchorage?" asked Marc, utterly confused. He knew that Lucie had been educated in the Vault, but in Megaton, schooling is very limited. He knew how to read and write, and did both as often as he could, yet the rest of his knowledge was on survival tactics, guns, and maintenance. At times, in conversations with Lucie, he was embarrassed when he couldn't understand something she said. It was that time Marc decided to brush up on his studies once he got to the Citadel.

"It was a city in Alaska, to the north of the Wasteland." Explained Lucie as she gazed up at the imposing statues, each wielding a weapon of pure destruction. They were the reliable 10mm submachine gun; the same that Lucie carried, the M2A1 'Flamer', and the devastating Fat Man; each playing a role in the Wastes.

"The war that destroyed the United States and the world began and ended there. After the U.S. annexed Alaska, China fired its nuclear payload on us. In less than seventy-two hours, the entire earth was bathed in nuclear fire."

"Damn…you learn all that in the Vault"

Lucie smiled, turning towards Marc, who was awkwardly standing next to Kodiak. The Pride had set up a defensive perimeter and the large Brotherhood soldier was the two teen's bodyguard. Lucie nodded, stepping back from monument.

Taking the moment Kodiak spoke. "We're staying here for the moment, giving Dusk and Maxson a chance to double back to us." The teens nodded, dropping their packs onto the bench against the monument. Kodiak turned his back to them, allowing them to speak without interruption. After all, he still needed to work on the servos on his armor.

Elder Walsh

Kyle knelt beside the river which flowed past the Anchorage Memorial, giving it a sense of peace. He removed his helmet, the pressurized suit hissing as it was removed. He sighed, scarred hands running over his face as he breathed in the fresh air.

"_No matter what, fresh air always beats the recycled crap…"_

He looked around him, taking in the sights. The rusted husks of a civilization that long ago lost its chance for life, but now, there was hope. New life is springing from the purified rain, washing away the filth and radiation. All along the banks of the Potomac there were willow trees blooming again.

"Amazing dad, simply amazing."

"What is?"

Kyle jumped, turning towards the voice. Sarah stood, hands on her hips with her all-knowing smirk on her face. Her blonde hair pulled back in her signature ponytail and blue eyes shining bright. Kyle smiled; to him she never looked more beautiful; always she was beautiful, but never as much as now. She was a soldier and one of the finest that he knew.

"The way things happen." Kyle said as he stood, grabbing his helmet and walking to Sarah. "A new life is coming to the Wastes and with it new hopes, take a look around Sarah. It's plain to see."

Sweeping his hand forward, he pointed out key factors. "See there, pure water rippling through the river. Clear skies with rain clouds of un-irradiated water and well…look at that." Kyle pointed towards the two add-ons from Megaton. His son and the Vault Girl.

They were laughing at some unknown joke; genuine smiles adorned their faces as they sat next to one another. Kodiak himself, while still keeping watch, was busy repairing his armor. Yet, was the most amazing thing was that the teens were unhindered by the years of turmoil that the Capital Wasteland had faced in the past few years.

"You see Sarah, there is hope is even the smallest thing."

Sarah smiled, sliding her hand to Kyle's; interlocking their fingers. "Yeah, I see. I want to see my son grow to be an old man, like my father."

"He will, Sarah, I promise you. He will." Said Kyle as he squeezed her hand, he released it and pulled his helm over his face; sealing it once more.

"Come on, let's move."

Marc

"So you're saying that the Capital Wasteland isn't the only place with people still alive?" asked Marc as he pulled open the Metro tunnel gate, revealing total darkness.

"Of course, there were Vaults all over the country full of people. We just need to find some way to communicate with them." Explained Lucie as the Pride shuffled through the gate, individual lights flickering on. "You see, if we find enough Vaults and GECKs then we have a chance of rebuilding the U.S."

As soon as the words left her mouth, the Pride stopped dead in their tracks. They all turned towards her, their faces shrouded by the helms they wore. Lucie stopped short, the gate slamming shut behind her, echoing through the tunnel.

"What?"

The Pride stood still, not a soul moving as Elder Walsh stepped forward from the darkness. "Rebuilding the U.S. has had dire consequences on those who have wished it. The Enclave tried that and we destroyed them, that is the legacy of the 'United States'; death and destruction." Ending his speech, Elder Walsh strode away, pulling his Gauss rifle from his back.

"Pride, move it!" barked Elder Walsh.

The Pride followed quickly, falling into formation as they walked through the Metro. Sentinel Lyons, however, hung back from the rest. She waited until Lucie and Marc reached her before speaking in a hushed voice.

"Look, Lucie, it's not personal. The Enclave tried to rebuild the U.S. any way they could, even to the point of killing innocent civilians." Sarah explained as they followed the rest of the group. "Kyle's father was one of those killed in the Battle of D.C. and after that Kyle utterly destroyed the Enclave at Adams Air Force base. Ever since then, he has hated the Enclave and the idea that they represent."

The three of them walked in silence for the rest of the journey as they reached the exit to Chevy Chase. Sliding open the gate, the group exited the dark Metro tunnels; walking the steps up to the courtyard of Galaxy News Radio.

The courtyard was abuzz with activity. Brotherhood soldiers patrolled the fountain area and the steps above it while a small trade caravan began to set up shop. Yet, what made Marc nervous were the fires burning across the compound. The ground was littered with spent shell casings and the smell of blood was in the air. The Pride strode across the courtyard, bringing shouts and salutes from the Brotherhood.

"Elder!" shouted one Knight from the stairs, jogging forth from his defense. The Pride quickly snapped up their weapons and placed themselves in front of the elder.

"Halt! Identify!" barked Paladin Vargas as the approaching Knight skidded to an abrupt stop. The soldier had stopped before the group, quickly removing his helm; revealing a tan, fresh-faced young woman.

"Elder, Knight Davis reporting." Davis said as she straightened to a salute. The Pride visibly relaxed, but kept their weapons ready; Kyle walked forward, returning the salute.

"What's the situation, Knight?" asked Kyle as the Pride began to spread out, circling the Knight, watching for suspicious movement. Marc and Lucie stood side by side, watching the two speak.

"Elder, we were attacked sir…"

Well, by who damn it?"

The Knight shifted, tears beginning to stream down her face. Kyle straightened up, bringing himself to his full height. "Damn it all, Davis who?" shouted Kyle as he grabbed Davis by her armor.

"Mutants"

Marc groaned as he helped Kodiak push the Pre-War truck into the gap in the street. They had been working for the past two hours while Kyle and Sarah spoke with Three Dog and Knight Davis. Davis, who was the ranking BOS soldier left at Galaxy News, had been left in charge after an explosion liquefied Paladin Graves, the commander of the outpost. Davis told them that the Super Mutants had arrived in force, blowing straight through the first lines of defense before being stopped by the Brotherhood's counterattack.

So now they were preparing for the next wave of Mutants to strike. As of now they had rebuilt the barricade, blocking the tires of the truck with rubble from an old statue. Marc straightened up, his back making popping sounds as he stretched.

"So, Kodiak, where does my dad…I mean the Elder, want me during the fight?" asked Marc as he and Kodiak walked back to the fountain where Lucie and Dusk were setting up one of the outposts turrets; the Pre-War Bravo 240 medium machine guns. Dusk was currently showing Lucie how to load and clear a round in case of a jam. The only reason the Brotherhood fought back the Mutants was because of this gun emplacement and two other like it.

"Marc, you and Lucie are going to be posted with me inside." Said Kodiak as they reached Lucie and Dusk, who had finished with the turret and going over the basic usage.

"What? I can fight too; ya 'know?" argued Marc, stepping up to Kodiak, who towered over him; regardless of the power armor. Lucie looked up from the Bravo, concern written on her face; she stood, only to be waved down by Dusk.

"Listen Marc, your parents, my superiors, have ordered me to keep you and Lucie safe." Kodiak explained, placing his hands on Marc's shoulders. "I have to do it, besides; the battlefield is no place for you. The Brotherhood can handle it, we have been for the past few decades; believe me."

"Damn it, Kodiak!" shouted Marc, kicking over an ammo crate before storming off inside the radio station. Kodiak sat down, scratching the back of his head. Sighing he turned to the two women.

"I shouldn't have to him yet, huh?" asked Kodiak.

Lucie jumped up from the fountain, running past Kodiak into the building. Kodiak turned trying to ask her something. "Well?" he asked turning to Dusk, who only shrugged and went back to work on the Bravo.

"Ah come on!" sighed Kodiak.

Lucie

The doors to Galaxy News slammed open once again, with another teen doing the slamming. Lucie ran into the lobby, turning every which way looking for Marc. Two Brotherhood soldiers sat inside, cleaning their laser rifles. One of them just jerked a thumb in the direction Marc went. Lucie nodded her thanks, running up the stairs; taking two at a time.

"Marc." Lucie whispered, poking her head into the stations dormitory. She was answered by the slamming of a locker, followed by Marc rounding the corner with his rifle. He stopped abruptly, surprised to see her.

"Lu-"started Marc.

"No, Marc." Lucie said, holding her hand up. "Be quiet just for a second."

Nodding his head, Marc placed his rifle against one of the bunks; crossing his arms and leaned against the adjacent wall. "Well?"

Lucie crossed the room, sitting on a bunk. She folded her hands, placing them under her chin; searching for the words. Looking up she started.

"Why, Marc? Can I just ask you that?"

Marc shifted uncomfortably, his gaze downcast.

"Look at me, when I speak to you. Give me that." Said Lucie, staring daggers into Marc's eyes.

"Ah…Lu, I want to fight; I can fight!" shouted Marc, crossing the room to the door, slamming it shut. He walked back and forth across the room, unaware of Lucie's eyes watching him as he spoke.

"I am a soldier, that's what I've wanted to be all my life! And I finally get the chance to prove myself, but no, my 'DAD', says no!" yelled Marc, voice echoing in the small room. Lucie visibly flinched as Marc swung his arm 'round, knocking over an old hat stand. "My FATHER, who hasn't even been in my life, is deciding things for me."

"Look, Marc. He wants to keep you safe, that's why he was gone for so long." Explained Lucie as she stood, crossing her arms. "That's all he wants. You must understand."

"NO! You don't understand!" Marc shouted, pointing a finger accusingly towards Lucie; who stumbled back against the bed. "You, who grew up safe inside a Vault, and never experienced hardships of any kind, everything on a silver platter; no worries for the vault princess." With that he threw up his hands, turning his back on Lucie.

"Hey, wasteland pricks!" she hissed, causing Marc to turn around. He turned, only to be floored by a punch that brought stars to his eyes. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his vision.

"That is for not understanding women…and this is for what you said." Lucie shouted as she delivered a swift kick to Marc's rear. "You think I don't understand, huh? I just lost my mother and all of my friends because of your 'Wasteland' feuds, so don't you dare say I don't understand." And with that, in a swirl of brunette hair, she was out the door.

"Lucie, please, I'm sorry. Wait." Marc shouted after her, only to be answered by the sound of the door slamming in the lobby. He lay there, contemplating what he had said; each second hating himself more and more. _"I'm so sorry…"_

Marc

"Well, well; looks like the prodigal son has lost his touch."

Marc scrambled to his feet, turning towards the door; revealing Marc's least favorite Brotherhood soldier…Maxson. Marc stared into the eyes of Maxson, watching his every movement.

"Can I help you Maxson, hmm?" asked Marc, spreading his feet into a defensive stance Lucas had taught him. The Paladin snickered as he walked into the room, clapping his hands.

"Run into a spot of trouble, have we?" laughed Maxson as he crossed his arms, an evil smile on his lips.

"Hmm, nothing I can't handle." Replied Marc as he bent to pick up his rifle, only to be knocked to the ground…again. "What, damn it?"

"Can you handle me, eh?" asked Maxson, kicking at Marc as he tried to stand; knocking him back down. "Or are you going to ask 'daddy' to fight this battle for you too?"

With a scream of rage, Marc grabbed hold of Maxson boot; pulling him to the ground. He swung himself on top, slamming his fist into Maxson's again and again before Maxson struck back with a wild swing to the side of Marc's head. Marc fell to the side, allowing Maxson to scramble to his feet; who delivered another punch to Marc's jaw.

Marc fell to his knee, lashing out with his foot; catching Maxson in the gut. Thankfully, the man wasn't wearing his armor or Marc would have had a broken foot._ "Thankful indeed."_

Maxson flew against the wall, smashing the shelves bolted against them. Standing, Marc swept the back of his hand against his mouth; wiping the blood away.

"Come on, that all you got, bitch?" challenged Marc, settling into his stance once again. Maxson pulled himself up, face red with anger; marked by a trickle of blood from his mouth and nose. Marc grinned, blood mixed into his white teeth, giving him a devilish look; taunting Maxson.

Maxson charged Marc, only to be swept off his feet by an explosion which rocked the entire building. Marc only stayed standing because he held onto the bunk next to him as another blast hit the station, showering them in dust. From the lobby below came shouts of terror.

"MUTIES!"

"Their back, to the barricades, hold them back!" shouted the Brotherhood soldiers as they rushed to battle.

Marc pulled himself straight, locking eyes with Maxson. In the lull of the explosions, a pact was formed; they would finish it later. _"Deal"_

Marc was greeted by the barks of assault rifles and the snaps and hisses of laser rifles. The courtyard was a disaster; black smoke shrouded the area, allowing glimpses into the horror. Bodies were everywhere, Mutant and Brotherhood alike; giving it a foul sense of comradeship that only warriors could have.

Maxson cursed, rushing forward; paying no heed to the deadly lead flying all around.

"_Oh hell no, you ain't gonna show me up."_

He was almost to the fountain barricade when an explosion blew him off his feet, sending him careening into a rusted trash can. His world blurred as he sat up, time seemed to slow as he watched the battle continue.

He watched as Paladin Vargas rose from behind his barricade, firing his rifle over and over and Knight Davis, who manned one of the three Bravo 240 turrets. Marc watched, in horror, as a grenade soared through the air; landing inside the barricade to the far right of the stairs. The two Brotherhood knights were shredded by the explosion, their armor failing to protect them from the deadly shrapnel. Marc winced as blood splattered the walls, streaming to the ground; soaking the dirt.

A large shadow fell over him, causing Marc to look up. Standing before him was the perfect example of ugly. The Super Mutant towered above him, its skin an ugly yellow which was dotted with radiation sores and burns. Its clothes consisted of a loincloth and bandoleer which was adorned with gory trophies; human hands and skulls hung from the monster's chest. The most horrifying part was the smile the Mutie wore on its face. All you could see were the rows of large, blunt teeth forever pulled back in a horrible smile.

"FOUND YOU!" it howled; snapping Marc out of his stupor. The Mutant wielded a massive sledgehammer, raising it up for the death blow. Just as Marc's life flashed before him, the report of a rifle, louder than the rest, echoed across the courtyard. The result was the removal of the Mutant's head, the entire top of its head exploded in a shower of gore; splattering Marc's clothes.

"Marc, get your ass over here!"

Marc rolled out of the way of the falling corpse, looking up to see Dusk, Kodiak, and Lucie behind the fountain barricade. Kodiak was blasting away with the 240 machine gun while Dusk and Lucie were firing towards the entrance of the old school building. Lucie turned towards Marc, firing over her head with her MP9.

"Damn it Marc, you wanna die?" Lucie yelled, ejecting her magazine and sliding in a new one. With that, Marc snatched up his rifle and sprinted as fast as he could towards the barricade. He finally reached it, diving head first into the perimeter; rolling next to Lucie.

"Well, look who's here, the WP is gracing us with his presence." Lucie sarcastically said as she locked her magazine in, pulling the bolt back. Marc rolled his eyes, pulling the bolt on his own rifle back as he rose with Lucie; firing into the smoke. He trained his sights on one figure in the smoke, opening fire as it came closer. He was rewarded with a scream of agony as he emptied the rest of the clip into the figure; dropping back down behind the sandbags with Lucie.

"Look, I'm sorry, ok?"Said Marc, ejecting his magazine and inserting a new one, turning towards Lucie. "I was wrong and I'm sorry Lu."

"Yeah, yeah. Why should I believe you?" asked Lucie as she fired, downing another Mutie rushing across the compound. Marc slammed the back of his head against the sandbags, desperately searching for the words.

"Okay, you want me to say it?" asked Marc, emptying his magazine into two Mutants as they charged towards the Brotherhood. "Fine, I'm a wasteland prick, who treated you like crap. I can now understand what I said and how much I hurt you, I'm sorry Lucie."

Lucie knelt behind the barricade, gazing into Marc's eyes. "Marc, look I can't-

"Damn it! Stop acting like a bunch of love struck teens and fire your fucking weapons!" Barked Kodiak, the Bravo recoiling into his shoulder; shell casings flying everywhere as he turned the turret to the left and opened up on another group of Mutants. The 7.62 rounds finding their marks as the Muties fell to the ground; minus arms, legs, and heads.

Marc smiled, looking into Lucie's eyes. In them, he saw the strength and determination that he had missed in his anger. His smile widened, earning a well-deserved roll of the eyes from Lucie as they both stood. They fired together, their individual weapons sending deadly lead down the lanes of fire.

"There we go, keep it up!" Kodiak shouted as he emptied the last of the Bravo's belt magazine into a Mutie Brute; its rifle firing into the air as it collapsed. "Ammo, get me some ammo!"

"Roger. Davis, come in." said Dusk as she radioed in for Davis.

"What, Dusk? I'm busy." Replied Davis over the radio, the sound of her Bravo firing over the radio.

"We need ammo now, our Bravo's out." Dusk shouted into the radio, rising up to fire. She quickly ducked back down after a Mutie sent a few 5.56 her way; ricocheting off her armor.

"Alright, on the way." With that Davis cut the link to Dusk's radio.

"Kodiak, ammo on the way." Shouted Dusk as she replaced her power cell; immediately firing three bolts into a charging Mutant, its body turning to ash.

"Roger, pour it on them, Pride!" shouted Kodiak as he chucked a grenade into a group of Mutants, the Muties only having time to stare at the round object before being blown to smithereens. "Whoa, that's what I'm talking about!"

Then the tell-tale sign of a missile incoming, Marc heard the hiss before spotting the stream of white smoke mixed with fire. "TAKE COVER!" Marc screamed as he pulled Lucie down with him, covering her body with his. Dusk dove down to the ground as the missile shot past her; narrowly missing her helm, the fire scorching her armor.

Time slowed as Marc looked to Kodiak, the large man turning to face the missile. With a bellow of rage, Kodiak dove to the ground; too late. The rocket slammed into the fountain behind him, obscuring the entire barricade in a cloud of dust.

"Kodiak! NOOOO!"

Dusk scrambled to the fountain, leaping over the wall. She began to throw rocks and other debris from the site, trying to find Kodiak. Marc ran to her, grabbing her by the collar of her armor.

"Dusk, he's gone; get down." Marc pulled her down, picking up Dusk's rifle; tossing it to the woman. "If you want to avenge Kodiak, then kill so more fuckin' Muties."

With a snarl, Marc cocked his rifle; firing into an overly-cocky Mutant, black blood splattering the ancient stonework. He pivoted, emptying the rest of his magazine into a centaur; blasting its foul face to bits as it drowned in its own radioactive bile.

"Ammo, I got ammo!" cried an Initiate as he sprinted across the compound, bullets kicking up dirt and gravel beneath his feet. The boy launched himself over the barricade, ammo boxes in hand. He sat up, cowering in between the sandbags as Mutie rounds zipped past their heads.

"Kid!" Marc screamed, trying to get the Initiate's attention. "Grab a gun and shoot something!"

The Initiate, still shaking with fear, pulled his AEP7 laser pistol. His hands shook as he raised the weapon, his face contorted in fear.

"Fire your weapon!"

The Initiate did so, finger squeezing the trigger over and over, lances of red light cutting into a Mutant as it charged the Brotherhood emplacements. The majority of his shots missed, but two struck; burning its right arm and leg, causing it to fall to the ground.

"There you go, kid, keep at it." Marc shouted, firing bursts into the Mutant, putting it down. "Lucie, get the ammo. Hurry!"

Lucie jumped to her feet, slinging her MP9 and grabbed the boxes of 7.62 rounds. A .32 round struck her on her shoulder, penetrating her armor and body. She screamed, piercing the air, sharper than the howls of the Mutants and Brotherhood soldiers. Marc screamed as well, running after her as he watched her body fall behind the stonework.

"Lucie, where you hit?" Marc asked as he pulled her up, hands searching for the wound. He found it, the round had passed through her shoulder blade and continued through. The exit wound was clean, but blood flowed free.

"Here, keep pressure." Said Marc as he tore his vest and shirt off, folding the shirt and pressing onto the wound; making Lucie hiss in pain. Lucie's bloodstained hand covered Marc's as she spoke.

"Go…I'm fine. It's just a flesh wound." She said, pulling her pistol from her holster; determination written across her face. "I'm right-handed, thank God." She said with a wink. With that, she rose up, joining the defense again. The Glock, Marc's old one, barked as she fired; the rounds making the Mutants howl in anger. Marc smirked, grabbing the ammo cans as he jumped behind the Bravo. Incoming fire intensified as he did so, the Mutants figuring out the lethality of the 240; sparks flying everywhere as .32 and 5.56 rounds impacted all around Marc's position.

"Marc, get that turret up now!" cried Dusk as she ducked down to reload her rifle, pulling the Initiate with her as an explosion threatened to eviscerate him. There came a loud roar and crash, causing Marc to look up from the machine gun. His eyes widened when he saw the sight; before him was a monstrous sight. A massive Super Mutant, larger than all its brothers, had burst through the remains of the schoolhouse wall; showering the area in debris and dust. Underneath his skin, rippled muscles only years of radiation poisoning could allow and over his body he wore remnants of Enclave power armor.

"Holy shit, Marc!" Shouted Lucie, opening up with her Glock; the 9mm rounds only angering the Master; the resultant was it bellowing an amazingly harsh roar as it charged forward. Marc wrenched open the cover assembly, guiding the ammunition belt into the feed tray.

The Master charged forward, swinging its massive Super Sledge; knocking over piles of debris and shoving its very own fellow Mutants out of the way. The Initiate rose up firing his laser pistol until it ran dry, intensifying the Mutie's anger.

"Sir, I'll hold him off!" screamed the Initiate as he leapt over the sandbags, drawing a combat knife as he charged forward. The Mutant roared, swinging his sledge towards the Initiate; who narrowly dodged the deadly hunk of metal. Bellowing a war cry of his own, the Initiate drove his knife into the Mutant's stomach, the hilt touching its disgusting stomach.

"Kid, get out of there!" shouted Marc as he slammed the cover assembly down, cocking the Bravo. The Initiate could only turn to look at Marc, nodding his head in respect before facing the Master.

"PUNY HUMAN!" it roared as it picked the Initiate up in its massive hand. The boy struggled in the Mutants grasp, his hands trying to push himself out of the tight grip. His face turning bright red as the Mutant's hand squeezed tighter. "I KILL YOU!"

"Haha…bite me, bitch." Gasped the Initiate as he upturned his hand, revealing something that could turn the tide…an M67 grenade.

"Get down!" barked Marc as he ducked behind the Bravo, Lucie and Dusk diving behind the barricade just as the grenade exploded. The blast sent shards of shrapnel flying past their heads, one razor-sharp piece grazing Marc's cheek as it flew past them.

Marc pulled himself up by the Bravo's handle, scanning for the Initiate and Master. The smoke cleared, revealing the remains of the Initiate. Only the torso of the boy remained, his armor rent in multiple places from the shrapnel; eyes staring off, never to see again. Yet, the Master was nowhere to be seen.

"Marc…where'd it go?" asked Dusk, slowly bringing her rifle to her shoulder; scanning the area. Lucie stood, ejecting her nearly spent magazine, loading her last magazine. They all searched for the Mutant; ignoring the shouts of victory from the Brotherhood.

"They've fallen back!"

"Come on back, you Mutie bastards!"

Marc grinned, wincing as the gash on his cheek moved; blood streaming down his face and neck. He gave a thumbs-up sign to Lucie, ignoring the pain as his grin widened. She smiled back, powder residue and dirt coating her face.

He opened his mouth to speak, express his enthusiasm about winning; when Marc heard some debris shift. He turned to his right, noticing the fallen bricks and rebar vibrating slightly.

"Lu, get back, get back now!" shouted Marc as he jumped behind the 240; racking a round into the chamber. Lucie dove back, just as the debris blew out; showering them in an cloud of dust. She scrambled on all fours as the dust cleared, revealing the Master.

The blast must have buried him underneath the bricks, burying him and hiding him from view. The Master was covered in blood, the remains of its armor now useless. It roared a challenge, hand pulling its sledge from the rubble. Marc smirked, taking the challenge as he gripped the 240's handle.

The Mutant charged forward, roaring louder than before; completely bypassing Lucie and Dusk in its need to demolish Marc.

Marc waited until the Master was clear from Lucie before squeezing the trigger. The 7.62 rounds slicing into the Mutant's flesh like knife through Brahmin butter. "Fuck you, you ugly son-of-a-bitch!" screamed Marc as the weapon recoiled into his shoulder. The Mutant was ten feet away, the bullets blowing chunks of flesh as it neared the turret; blood spraying everywhere.

"Stay down!"

Marc shifted his aim downward, aiming towards the legs of the Mutant. The ammo belt was nearing its end, when the sound of breaking bone echoed forth. The monster stumbled, roaring in agony instead of rage as it fell to the ground. The Bravo was spent, barrel red-hot and steaming as Marc released it; his hands still shaking as he approached the Mutant.

The Mutant hissed in pain, blood seeping out of its mouth as it reached for Marc; arm now shredded. The three of them circled the body, each staring into the monster's eyes. Marc could only feel hate towards the monstrous being, nothing but hate. He pulled his pistol, the .45 shaking as he aimed it towards the Mutant's head. He dropped his hand, staring at Lucie.

"Waste of ammo, ya'know?" said Marc, looking for Lucie's answer.

"Yeah…I know." Replied Lucie, pity practically dripping in her voice; her green eyes staring into Marc's blue ones.

Marc nodded, raising his pistol once more and fired a single shot into the Mutant's head. The .45 round at point-blank range entered the skull, destroying what was left of it's brain.

"Come on, you guys." Marc said as he holstered his pistol, turning away from the corpse. "Let's clean up."

**Well, theres she is. Is Kodiak dead? What is Maxson's problem? And what will happen to the Brotherhood after this? Hope you guys enjoyed it and had a good Christmas. Review please, it can be my present from yall. Have another one up soon. Merry Christmas.**


	11. New Beginnings

**Hey y'all latest installment of the story, hope ya like it. **

July 11, 2294 Galaxy News Radio Station

Groans of pain filled the air as Marc stumbled towards the pile of rubble where Kodiak was last seen. Scenes of the battle flashed across his mind, the missile striking the fountain, the Initiate being blown apart by the grenade, and the slaughter of the Super Mutant Master.

"Marc? What are you doing?" shouted Lucie, as she pulled away from Dusk; who was currently giving first-aid to the wounded. Lucie's arm was wrapped in a sling, after she was shot in the shoulder by a stray .32 round. She followed Marc as he began pulling rocks from the pile.

Grasping another chunk of rubble, Marc threw it aside; barely missing Lucie as she dodged it. "Kodiak is still alive, I know it." He gasped; sweat dripping from his brow as his muscles strained from the exertion. He crouched, placing his foot against the rubble as he pulled on a piece of rebar. His shoulders popped as he leaned back, pulling on the bar; barely shifting it.

"Marc…a rocket hit behind him. Nothing could survive that." Lucie explained as she walked up behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but you've got to realize the chances of him surviving are-"

Lucie was silenced by the shifting of the rubble, just a tremor, but one her and Marc both noticed. Marc held a finger to his lips, lowering his head closer to the pile; the tremor increasing. The two teen's eyes widened, in both their minds the impossible had been overcome. They began tearing at the rocks, Lucie mostly kicking at the rebar as she tried to help Marc.

"Dusk! Over here, something is moving!" Lucie shouted as she added her working hand to a large rock that Marc was pulling on. Dusk dropped her first-aid bag; sprinting forward as she shouted for more assistance. The walking-wounded of the Brotherhood jumped to action as they swarmed over the pile of rubble; tearing it apart.

Marc was pushed aside by Knights and Paladins as they took his place. Aided by their power armor, they were able to quickly excavate the rubble; discovering something astounding.

Kodiak lay bloodied and battered, his armor crushed in multiple places. There were rents in his armor where blood and dirt had become mixed, making an odd type of mud. Kodiak coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as his right eye cracked open.

"Hey…argh…What took ya?" asked Kodiak as he coughed up more blood; mixing with the grime on his face. His left arm was crushed underneath a large rock as was the rest of his lower body, obscuring it from view.

"Medic! Get a goddamn medic!" shouted a dark-skinned Knight with a bandage wrapped around his forehead. A Knight-Sergeant dressed in recon armor came sprinting from the aid station, bag flapping in the wind.

"Move, move dammit!" said the medic as she pushed the soldiers aside, bending down to examine Kodiak. "Ah shit, radio the Citadel. Priority One airlift, Vertibird needed immediately." The medic explained as she signaled for the men to continue digging Kodiak from the rubble.

Kodiak screamed as they lifted the rocks from his arm and legs; revealing the bloodied remains of his limbs. His arm was maimed, blood leaking from the rents in the armor and his legs were no better. Both were horribly ruined, the armor plating barely keeping them from becoming pancakes.

"I need a stretcher and tools to remove this blasted armor." Said the medic as she jammed a syringe of Med-X into Kodiak's neck, dispensing the drug into his system; the stretcher bearers arrived, loading Kodiak onto it and sprinting away. The medic slapped Marc on the back, shouting over her shoulder as she followed the bearers.

"Good job kid, I owe you a beer." She said as she reached the stairs, disappearing through the door.

"Just help him, that's all you owe me." Marc shouted back, dropping to the ground in exhaustion. He sighed, pulling his duster from his body and tossing it aside; he lay against the sandbags surrounding him.

"Ahh feels good to relax, ya'know?" said Marc as he folded his hands behind his head, turning to Lucie. The girl laughed, wincing as her shoulder moved, causing Marc to sit up. "How's the shoulder?"

"Well, Dusk said that I won't be playing baseball anytime soon. Though, I have a new story to tell at parties."

Marc laughed as Lucie smiled brightly, green eyes shining. He looked to Lucie, unknowingly inching closer to her. "Um, hey…Lu, would you come to the Citadel with me?"

Lucie's eyes widened as the words left Marc's mouth. The thought had crossed her mind to accompany the Pride to the Citadel, to aid in the search of her mother's killers; but she had yet to have been asked by Marc to go with _'him'._

"Yea…sure. I'd love too; your dad said he would help me find the Outcasts. He already told me that they used to be at Camp Independence, but that it's been vacant for years." Lucie explained as she shifted closer; her hand reaching for Marc's.

He smiled, fingers intertwining with Lucie's as they both laid back against the sandbags. Lucie inched closer, sliding under Marc's arm; closing her eyes slowly.

"Wake me in a few, okay?"

"Course, sleep tight." Marc said as he pulled her closer, her head nestled against his chest. "Sleep tight."

Marc woke to the sound of whirling wind and monstrous machine. He opened his eyes, only to shut them closed after a gust of wind blasted him in the face. Before him stood the Vertibird, a testament to the ingenuity of the human race. The blades whipped around as the pilot walked off the ramp.

"Hey, waster." The pilot shouted to Marc, pulling his helmet off. "Where's the package?"

Marc opened his mouth, only to have it shut closed when the station's doors burst open. The medic was in the lead, plasma bag in hand as they rushed forward towards the Vertibird.

The medic leaned in, shouting over the sound of the 'copter. Marc couldn't hear what they were saying, only that the pilot nodded quickly and rushed back into the Vertibird; followed by the stretcher bearers.

The medic was just about to board when she spotted Marc and Lucie. She waved them over, her hair billowing in the wind. Marc grabbed his jacket pulling Lucie with him as they approached the 'copter. They reached the ramp the medic leaned in closer to speak to them; barely heard over the wind.

"Kodiak is in bad shape, we're evacing him to the Citadel." 'Medic' said, pulling her hair back from her face before continuing. "I've been ordered by Elder Walsh and Sentinel Lyons to take you with us. You'll be safer there and we can start on your training."

Marc sputtered, looking towards the medic and the station; as if he could see his father through the walls. The medic grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer.

"No arguments, Marc. Get on the damn bird, Kodiak needs to go now!" the woman shouted, pulling him and Lucie onto the ramp. 'Medic' then leaned into the cockpit, signaling the pilot to go. The ramp lifted away from the ground, spiraling into the sky.

Lucie gasped, grasping the handhold above her as she stared at Marc. He stood tall, though she could sense the turmoil in his soul; his face etched in stone. His hair was swept back in the wind as the station grew smaller and smaller as they flew towards the Citadel. The ramp finally closed, red lights winking on as Marc and Lucie sat down on the jump seats; strapping in.

Running his hand though his hair, he looked out the window at the Wasteland below; contemplating the things in his life. He now has a family, not just his parents but the Pride as well. Now, part of his family is hurt and Marc vowed to make damn sure Kodiak makes it.

'Medic' leaned across the aisle, patting Marc on the leg. "Better say goodbye to your hair, kid." She said laughing as she pulled a cigarette from her pocket; offering to Marc who declined quickly.

"What do you mean?" Marc asked as the woman's lighter flashed twice, the flame brightening her face briefly. The medic smiled, taking an agonizingly long drag from the cigarette. She leaned forward, blowing smoke out of her nose before speaking.

"You lose it when we get there…welcome to the Brotherhood of Steel."

**Well, there she is. I know really short, but I'm having major writers block and I'm going to make his story into parts. This is the first part and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did bringing it to you. Like always please review and I'll be your best friend. I wanted to thank AntAgonizer for the great review, means a lot man. See y'all next time.**


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